Blood
by One Twinkle in a Million
Summary: The goddess gives them a perfect life in return for getting four kits each moon. But why her? It's not a perfect life for her, or for the other sacrifices. In the end, you have to wonder: is this life really worth it?
1. Prologue

**A/N: Yet again, I have another awesome idea. Everyone who follows me should realize by now that I am an evil procastinator, therefore I'm coming up with tons of stories and not updating any of them.**

**I also understand that a few of you are waiting for the multi-chapter version of Running. I'm working on that; it should be up in about five days or so.**

**Warning: Rated T for minor violence and blood.**

* * *

**Prologue**

The young apprentice forced her way through ShadowClan's mucky swamps and boggy land. Her paws made squelching noises every time they sunk into the ooze and she winced as her ash-black pelt got filthy with mud. Her muscles worked hard, and she managed to push through the thick layers of sticky liquid. She was up to her stomach in the bile, and cursed herself for not using the tree to get across.

Soaked and heavy with goop, Blossompaw dragged herself onto the solid land of ThunderClan territory, her brownish-green paw prints staining the leafy forest floor. The apprentice heaved forward, slime dripping off her with every step. Her shoulders hunched down with the weight of the sludge. It was worth it, she decided right there and then. Her actions were sure to cause war between the two Clans she hated. Blossompaw snuck past the ThunderClan camp. Her icy green eyes narrowed as she saw the den her father was sure to be in, sleeping soundly like he hadn't ruined his kit's life. Like everything was perfect for the fat kittypet. _Maybe it is._

She reached the ThunderClan training hollow, where her meeting had been scheduled. _She better not forget, _Blossompaw thought. She glanced up. There was not a trace of light in the night sky. It was time.

"I see you came."

Blossompaw jumped as Silver's voice rang through the hollow. The red-eyed she-cat, Silver, curled her lip and showed sharp, glinting fangs splattered with layer upon layer of blood. The ragged she-cat sniffed and studied her.

"Filthy little brute. You may have proved yourself worthy, but I still regret doing this for you. You want power, eh? Like me?"

Blossompaw nodded. "I want everything that you can give me!"

"Calm down, now, dear . . ." Silver circled the eager apprentice, analyzing her well-built body and strong muscles. Without warning, she lashed out and striked Blossompaw's muzzle. Blossompaw whimpered. Pain seeped into her face.

"It's your part of the deal, sweetie," Silver murmured mockingly. Blossompaw saw the she-cat lick her claws. "This is how you get your power . . ." Silver suddenly slashed open her own stomach, a small gash. Nevertheless, blood seeped in pawfuls out of the cut.

"Drink it."

"_What?_"

"Drink my blood. This is your path to domination above all the clans."

Blossompaw shuddered and touched the blood with the tip of her tongue. The pain on her face left, and a light red haze came over her vision. _More, _her heart begged, _more!_

The young she-cat was not aware of her body changing, only that the red got darker every time the blood flowed into her mouth. Silver had ripped out an eye, and the remaining one glowed a dark crimson color. Her black pelt grew even darker and gave off a white shine.

Silver's eyes, which had been red like Blossompaw's were now, changed to a bright green. In her greed for more blood, the apprentice had not noticed, though the old she-cat had. All the terrible visions, all the nasty filth in her mind had been cleaned out, transferred to Blossompaw. She felt light as the red haze lifted off her vision and landed on the apprentice. The old cat's head lolled to one side, her emerald eyes blank and staring at the sky.

Blossompaw mindlessly slashed Silver's body, marring the beautiful she-cat's face. She lapped up the warm blood.

_More, more, more!_

When her twisted mind was satisfied at last, Blossompaw left the corpse in the sandy hollow to stain the ground. Like a fox at night, she prowled into the ThunderClan camp to watch her father snoring for a moment.

_He will pay, soon._

The small true feline part of her, the old Blossompaw, cried out in agony before vanishing completely. It left three words that would be forever etched into Blossompaw's mind before disintegrating into nothingness.

_I'm sorry, mother. _

* * *

"Blossompaw! What's wrong with you?" demanded the golden tom as he swerved to dodge the apprentice's feeble swipe. "You started out this moon as a swell apprentice, and look what you are now! You're nothing but a shriveled pile of bones! And again, for the hundredth time now, what is with that red eye? You should know better than sneaking out in the dark to who-knows-where and get your other one ripped out."

_Shut up! Just shut up!_

All the anger that had been accumulating in Blossompaw ever since that fateful night burst out the way chicks broke the shell of their eggs.

She roared and pounced on her mentor, springing into unimaginable heights and landing on the overgrown tabby. Blossompaw swiped in an insane frenzy, not really knowing what she was doing. All she knew was what her tainted heart told her to do.

_Slash. Swipe. Bite. Tear. Kick. Tear him apart!_

The voice of her heart intensified. Blossompaw's naturally cold blood heated up to a boiling fury, burning any little sense left in there. This was what Silver had promised her, this power, and Blossompaw was determined to use all of it. She left no skill unused.

Soon, Liontail —the tom— had been reduced to a bloody mess. Blossompaw was left there panting, shocked by how easy defeating her mentor had been. Her passion was gone, and what replaced it was hollowness.

No regret. No mercy. No grief.

But weakness.

_What is wrong with me? _The same words Liontail had used. But it was true. Every day, as the full moon started to wane, more power seeped out of her and left Blossompaw an empty shell. Useless.

So she listened to the heart. The one that pumped Silver's crazed blood.

_Need to kill. Need to kill._

It was a new, animalistic instinct that went far beyond Blossompaw's normal sanity. But then again, her normality was gone for good.

_Need to kill. Fresh blood. Young blood. Kit blood. Want blood._

It was evening, the time when kits usually went to sleep unwillingly with their queens. The plan was simple, really; all kits loved to play. Blossompaw would give them what they wanted. She would go to ThunderClan for this. It was her first, small step in getting revenge. Her father had ruined her life. She needed to respond to his actions in kind.

_Blood. Want blood. Need blood. Fresh blood. Young blood. Kit blood._

Her heart was crying, begging for it. Complete agony.

_Need blood!_

The sun was falling rapidly into the west, rays shimmering pitifully. It was weak, too. Only it couldn't get any blood.

_Blood is mine! All mine!_

Blossompaw trekked slowly. She felt weighed down by her weakness, like she was carrying some heavy rock. But it didn't matter. The blood would wash it all away. She didn't care that her Clan might suspect something. She didn't care that her scent was all over the dead Liontail. The only thing on her mind now was _blood_, and Blossompaw was determined to get what she wanted.

The black apprentice was met with an obstacle. There were two cats guarding the camp. Not one, but two.

_ThunderClan scum._

Blossompaw rolled in a patch of grass, trying to hide her scent. She climbed up a tree and looked down in the camp. "Hey, kit," she whispered from her perch.

Nothing. Of course; she had been whispering.

"_Kit!_" The whisper was louder this time. Still nothing, but a ThunderClan cat perked his ears up and whispered something to his friend. The older cat, however, shook it off with disbelieving eyes.

_Toad-brain. Stupid dog._

The first cat yawned, his red tongue lolling out and his teeth glinting in the starless night. The second one smacked him, trying to keep him awake. While they jabbered and argued, Blossompaw successfully got into the camp.

"Little kit," she called in a honeyed mew. "Do you want to play?"

Two eyes popped out from what looked like the nursery. "Who are you?" asked the kit, wrinkling his nose. "You smell funny."

_Not half as bad as you, piece of fox-dung._

"Are you here to play?" the kit asked excitedly, bouncing up and down on his paws. "My name's Reedkit, and my momma is Yewfeather, and my dad is Mouseclaw!"

_Mouseclaw. _That cursed badger-heart. _So, this is my half-brother. Unfaithful tom._

"I see," Blossompaw mewed with false excitement. "You must love your parents very much."

"Well, not Mouseclaw." The kit wrinkled his nose again.

"Why not?"

"He never takes care of us. All the other dads bring their kits fresh-kill and moss-balls and play with them all the time, but Mouseclaw just sits there and grooms himself and does nothing." Reedkit scraped at the ground. He was distracted.

_Kill, now!_

Blossompaw looked around briefly, making sure everyone was asleep. Then she turned to the kit, her lips curled in a sadistic sneer.

"Stupid kit. Did you actually believe me?"

Reedkit cowered at this sudden change of personality, his simple mind not being able to process anything.

_Now!_

The apprentice leapt, using her last bit of strength to cleanly snap Reedkit's neck.

But not before he had the chance to scream. The shriek pierced the air and warned Blossompaw.

_Danger!_

She ran, carrying the limp, fragile body of the kit. Blood filled her mouth and gave her the energy to go on, paws thumping on the hard ground until she reached a safe spot under a bush.

There, Blossompaw drank the blood to her heart's desire. The fresh kit-blood was warm in her mouth, and she sucked it up with the same eagerness a moon before.

_Ahhh. _Her heart sighed in relief. _At last. Blood. I am strong again.  
_

Blossompaw suddenly jerked her head up. If she was getting stronger from this blood, and she had been weaker without it, she was going to have to do this every moon. What would she do during leaf-bare? There was already a small number of kits, and this would decrease once the colder months came.

_There's a way, _her heart told her. _Listen to me, and you will get what you crave. We will share the satisfaction of blood together, if you will listen. Listen. Listen._

The last word echoed in Blossompaw's mind, and so she listened.

_Good,_ purred the voice. _You have allowed yourself to be consumed by me. You be mine and I will be yours. You have the power to do almost anything you want now. You could easily make life perfect for the Clans. No starvation, no illness, no drought or storm or disaster. No death. You could even make yourself immortal.  
_

Blossompaw listened closely, taking in every word.

"But why would I want to make life perfect for the cats that destroyed my life?"

_Ah, that is the catch. Every new moon, they must sacrifice four kits —one from each Clan— and you will get four times the blood required. You will be POWERFUL!_

The word resonated through the depths of the apprentice's brain, increasing in speed and dynamics each time. Instead of fading away, it reverberated intensely until it burst out Of Blossompaw's consciousness.

"Powerful!"

_Exactly. Every cat existing will bow to you without hesitation. They will be forever in your debt, forever grateful for the happy lives you have bestowed upon them._

"I will be their leader."

_More than that. You will be their queen, their hero, their legend. You will be their goddess._

"Yes!" Blossompaw shouted, standing up from the pile of bones and flesh that had been Reedkit. "I will!"

_You must see your father for this. He will most definitely agree to the deal that you offer, and there will be no turning back._

"Of course he will, lazy tom."

_Do it!_

Blossompaw stealthily approached the Highledge, where only leaders and deputies could be. She didn't care.

"Cats of ThunderClan!" cried Blossompaw. The cats looked up at her, pelts bristling and claws unsheathed.

"What is a ShadowClan apprentice doing here in the middle of the night?" demanded Whitestar, the leader of the Clan. "ThunderClan, atta—"

"I understand you are in turmoil," Blossompaw said, cutting him off. She spoke quickly. "But do not attack me. I have a deal for you."

There were murmurs in the crowd, eyes staring up at this crazed she-cat who had dared to come into the heart of ThunderClan territory. A ginger warrior climbed on to the ledge, snarling.

"You have _no right _to be here!"

"No right!" chanted the Clan, taking up his call. "No right!"

The warrior launched himself at Blossompaw, who retaliated with a blow to the muzzle. "ShadowClan cats play dirty," she taunted. The cat only growled and scratched Blossompaw's neck.

Two drops of blood fell slowly onto the ground with separate _splats _for each. ThunderClan stared as Blossompaw's wound closed up almost immediately.

_This is the power that we share, _her heart meowed. _Do not forget what we are capable of._

"You see," Blossompaw said, "cats like you cannot hurt me. Mouseclaw!"

Her calico _father_ looked up, shock carved on his face.

"You will be making a decision for the forest."

The cats were hushed. The ginger cat stayed on the Highledge, eyes boring through Blossompaw. She did not flinch.

"Will you succumb to me as your leader and have a perfect world?"

"Why would we bow down to you?" shouted a gray she-cat. "You killed my son!"

"How are you so sure?" Blossompaw asked menacingly. "I repeat: Do you want disasters like this to happen time and time again, or live your perfect lives with a catch?"

"What catch?" rumbled the ginger warrior. "I say no."

"Do not interrupt!" Blossompaw bared her teeth and hissed.

The cat bristled. "I can do what ever I want! You are nothing but a mere apprentice that has too big an ego for her own good!"

"Stop." Whitestar's voice rang over the rest. He turned to face Blossompaw, staring her in the eye without a trace of fear. "What do you know about Reedkit?"

"I know that more kits will suffer his fate if this continues; I'll make sure of that myself. However, if you agree to my pact, only four will go from all the Clans once a moon."

"Murderer!" The gray she-cat, who Blossompaw assumed was Yewfeather, unsheathed her claws. "Kit-killer!"

"It is not your decision," the apprentice said coldly. "Well? Mouseclaw?"

The multi-colored tom shuffled his paws. "I think —I decide— that we should live perfect lives."

Yowls of protests rose up among the crowd. Yewfeather sliced Mouseclaw's face in a fit of anger only a mother could feel.

_This is going perfectly, isn't it? _inquired the cool voice.

"Very perfect," Blossompaw agreed. She raised her voice. "The words have been spoken and the deal has been agreed to! I will make your lives perfect if you will bow down to me and give me the kits promised every new moon. Or else."

"Or else what?" asked the ginger cat. He was awfully bold.

"I know someone," Blossompaw said, choosing her words carefully. "That someone can turn you all into crowfood. To prove my point, I will start with you. The rest of you," Blossompaw called, "will announce this at the Gathering. I will come if it is necessary."

She turned to face the warrior and took the fury in her heart to use.

He was the third cat who died that day.

* * *

**A/N: I'm scared of Blossompaw. *shudders* On a brighter note, there won't be too much violence in the next chapters. Also, I'd like some advice on making this more realistic. It's not every day an 8-moon-old apprentice takes over all four clans and kills two warriors in one day without being a Mary-sue.**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Here you are, chapter one. Prepare yourselves for an epic journey of words.**

* * *

**Chapter One**

_Of course, the Gathering did not go smoothly when Whitestar claimed 'an eight moon old apprentice killed his deputy and would make their lives perfect in return for a sacrifice'. Blossompaw had to show up, break the truce, kill several cats, and inflict fear into the Clans._

_It took a long time, of course. At first, the only thing that ruled over the Clans was fear. But soon, after generation upon generation, they began to truly respect Blossom for giving them these lives. Oh, there were still sparks, rebels here and there, but they were too old to do any good. Leaders retired whenever they felt like it, and the Warrior Code was no longer necessary._

_The queens started to care less and less for their kits. I, for one, stared disbelievingly down at the Clans —at the empty feline bodies that were left of the Clans— as they willingly left four kits every moon for their leader, Blossom. She has learned now that the voice is cruel and cunning and it will show no mercy when it comes to life or death. She has done much wrong, quite like me. __StarClan have forgiven me for my wrongs, and I am so thankful they have._

_My name is Silver, and I have done terrible deeds. But this is not my story._

_It is the story of a kit, one who was overlooked and deemed as just another sacrifice, the one who threw this new world into turmoil._

* * *

Mosskit yawned and woke up to the same soft grass she saw and felt every morning. She swatted the air with tiny paws, staring into the bright sun. It was a beautiful day —wasn't it always?— and then came the familiar call of Dewstar, the leader of WindClan.

"The morning meals are being delivered at this moment. Please eat quickly and quietly so we can get on with our daily activities."

As always, the young kit wondered what activities Dewstar meant. Chasing butterflies? Staring at clouds? Taking naps? Listening to the elders' stories?

That was all there was in her simple life, and that was how it would always be. Sometimes, Mosskit wondered what life in the old world would be like. Every day her imagination was fed with seemingly far-fetched tales of creatures no one had seen before, like foxes —wily russet creatures with cunning minds— or badgers, huge striped animals with long claws.

_Poor, poor Mosskit. She thought that she could take down a fox in one swipe. She thought she was a wise kit who knew what was right and wrong. She thought converting to the new world was wrong, though you could argue otherwise. She didn't know the pain and grief that came with the excitement and love._

Mosskit rose up to her paws and stood, her chest puffed up. The light gray she-kit eagerly awaited her meal, which came to her through a cat named Thrushwing.

"Thank you!" she called, always the polite and good kit.

"You're welcome, darling," Thrushwing said with a kind face.

_In this new world, kindness didn't exist sincerely. No cat felt happiness, so no cat became sad. No cat felt love, so they never felt grief. It was a two-way thing. You can't have one without the other, so you either have both or neither._

Mosskit bit into the soft flesh of the rabbit leg she was given. She was barely weaned, and this was one of her first solid meals. It tasted like food. No sweet grassy taste of your usual mouse. Just something that filled your belly up and gave you energy, but nothing to actually enjoy.

_To appreciate food and taste the goodness in it, you have to have been starved._

The bouncy kit licked a paw and cleaned her face thoroughly, looking her best for the new day. After the age of two moons, she became more independent. She could roughhouse with the other kits and care mostly for herself.

"Good morning!" Mosskit chirped. Her family —consisting of her brother, Shadekit, and her parents: Honeyfall and Stripedpelt— got up from their individual nests and stretched. Mosskit was used to being the canary of the group, the early bird that woke the rest up.

Shadekit stretched, dark gray pelt gleaming in the soft light. "G'morning," he mumbled while fixing a stray tuft of fur from his pelt.

"Good morning, dears," Honeyfall meowed. She glanced down at the vole by her nest and chewed on it thoughtfully.

Stripedpelt merely yawned, displaying his red gums and sharp teeth to the sun. He started his meal without saying a word.

_Oh, Stripedpelt. I believe it was his silence that attracted Honeyfall the most; she believed he was a listener because he was so quiet. The she-cat never even once noticed that it was ignorance that kept him hushed. By the time she realized his true feelings, the warrior was a queen with two little kits._

Shadekit was the first to devour his sparrow. He looked at Mosskit with a silly grin.

"How 'bout some moss-ball?"

"Why not?" asked Honeyfall in the same unchanged, cheerful voice. "After all, it might be your last game."

The two kits exchanged glances as somber as kit faces could get. Today was the half-moon, when the sacrifices of the four Clans would be announced. This moon, only two kits had been born —Shadekit and Mosskit. Both felt apprehension, at the very least, for how their lives could end. The threat of death loomed over them like a storm cloud that would not leave until they became six moons.

_It seemed that in this new world, kits were more intelligent than the adults. They lived every day in fear —real, genuine dread— that they would be a sacrifice. Once they grew up safely, it seemed that they didn't care that they were once the same kit they looked down on, one that was scared for his life._

Shadekit ran into the den and grabbed the ball of green strands. Mosskit met him at the mouth of the den and pushed her nose in his ear. "I hope you don't get chosen."

"I hope you don't, either." Comforting words from brother and sister, but empty. It would be one or the other, and "either" was not a useable word for the situation.

Mosskit suddenly grabbed the moss-ball and pranced away from Shadekit. Her brother caught up to her easily, though, with his longer legs.

They tussled for the moss-ball, laughing and shouting loudly. By this time the moor was wide awake, with noisy rabbits rustling the bushes and butterflies dancing on the wind. Shadekit abandoned the game to swat at a golden one, and soon both kits were chasing butterflies.

_It is natural that they would play to take their minds off of the doom that awaited for the kits._

"Look, I got a white one!" Mosskit mewed proudly. Her front paws were piled on top of each other, trapping a little butterfly. Shadekit came over curiously.

"Can I see?"

Mosskit opened her paws a crack and Shadekit peeked into the hole. He jumped back, startled, as the insect freed its self and fluttered into his eye.

"Oww! Mama, mama!"

"What is it, dear?" Honeyfall padded over to calm the shocked Shadekit while Mosskit watched the butterfly fly away.

_Kits make you want to recall your own childish moments; such innocent young life. Under the influence of her heart, however, Blossom wants to destroy that life for her own power. For blood._

Their mother scanned the two with uncharacteristically sharp eyes. "You two are filthy!"

Mosskit shuffled her paws. "We were just playing a game," she squeaked.

Honeyfall sighed and sat down. "You two can run along to the elders, now. And clean yourselves!"

_I believe she wanted them neat and tidy for her own reputation as a mother, not for the kits themselves._

"Okay, mama," Shadekit mewed with wide eyes to show that he was listening.

Mosskit had already started towards the crowded elder's den. She stepped over —and sometimes accidentally on— tails and sleeping bodies until she found Tangledclaw. The old, retired leader had wide greenish-yellow eyes that dared into empty space.

_Tangledclaw. He used to be a 'star' before he retired to the elders after they changed to the new world. The poor cat saw his mate get slaughtered in front of his eyes by Blossom and has been haunted with that memory ever since. _

"Tangledclaw!" Shadekit squealed. The elderly tom gave a jolt that shook his whole body until he spotted the two kits.

"Ah. Do you want a story?"

_Such a gentle cat, marred by the death of his love._

"Yes, please!" Mosskit said before her brother could open his mouth. Shadekit shot her an immature glare before settling down for the tale.

"What day is today, my dear kits?"

"The half-moon, sir," Shadekit mewled nervously, the burden of getting selected coming back on his shoulders.

"No need to call me a 'sir'," Tangledclaw rasped, then chuckled, shaking his head. The two kits looked at the demented cat and exchanged glances. It seemed impossible for someone to laugh at their destruction.

"Time passes by quickly, doesn't it? In honor of our all-great-and-mighty _goddess_" —he spat the word _goddess_ like it was a flea— "I shall tell you a story about her."

"Please do!" Mosskit chirped.

"Back long ago, when there were Gatherings, ThunderClan announced that a she-cat, just a 'paw, had killed their deputy —Foxclaw or something was his name— and that we all had to bow down to her and give up our kits in exchange for a perfect life. They warned us, and I suppose I should have listened.

"Of course, the rest of the clans protested. ShadowClan were shocked and angry at the blame placed on one of their apprentices. RiverClan and WindClan would never bow down to an eight-moon-old cat. We were wrong.

"Then came that she-cat, Blossompaw. She called out to us, gave us one final warning before striking out against one of my Clanmates, Lightheart. She was my mate, her belly swollen with unborn kits that would have been mine. But we lost more than one life that night, and I lost my family."

Tangledclaw flicked his tail irritably and sank his claws into the dirt.

"What I'm trying to say is that Blossom is a killer with no mercy, not even thinking about kits that didn't get a chance to live. She just disposes of anything that stands in the way of her power."

Mosskit shuddered. Somehow, the danger of becoming chosen had worsened.

"Tread carefully in the remainder of your lives, dear kits," Tangledclaw said. He turned away from them and stared into empty space again.

_I would be lying if I said I hadn't ever harbored__ feelings for my Clan leader before I went rogue. It all faded in good time, and I welcomed Lightheart warmly when she came to StarClan, but it had been there. Once._

Shadekit and Mosskit got up and both left the den. Mosskit turned to Shadekit once they had left.

"Do you ever wonder what it would have been like in the old world?" Mosskit inquired. Shadekit shook his head.

_His face was still lined with fluffy kit fur just like Mosskit, and yet one of them would be sent to their death, without the sleeker, older fur that marked the end of their kithood._

"I do," Mosskit murmured. "What would it be like of our father loved us? If we didn't have to worry about dying?"

"I'd like it a lot better," Shadekit mewed. "But we're just two kits like everyone says we are. Wondering isn't going to change anything, will it?"

"Maybe it could, but no one ever tried."

"Ooh. Let's try it, then! We'll be the first cats to do something!"

Mosskit purred. "Okay . . . . One, two, three!"

Both kits closed their eyes and started imagining life in the old world.

_It is these naïve, simple little actions that make me want to cry out to Blossom's murderous heart, ask why it was taking these poor kits for its own greedy self._

"Let all cats gather for an important annoucement!" yowled Rainstar, the leader. Close by her spot on the fallen tree was her deputy Fireblaze and medicine cat Beechnut.

"I, my deputy, medicine cat, and senior warriors have gone through numerous meetings to decide which kit will become WindClan's sacrifice for the next new moon." She paused a moment. "And the kit is Shade—"

"_No!_"

_I don't think I have ever heard a screech so loud and desperate ever before in my life._

Mosskit stood there, shocked by the volume of her voice. Shadekit, who had been trembling, looked at her in disbelief.

Than was when what she had just done hit her.

Interrupted one of the most important speeches of her Clan leader, contradicted her leader, and ultimately sentenced herself to an almost certain death.

The moment she had heard the hissing sound of _shhhh, _beginning the name,she had known it was her brother. And Mosskit had reacted with the highest amount of impudence possible. Committed the worst crime in front of the whole Clan.

"No?" Rainstar drawled slowly. "You want to go in his place?"

Mosskit froze. She felt herself numbly nodding, but her insides were churning and writhing let someone had set them on fire. She imagined red flames like the ones so often told about in stories, and she felt them burning her organs in fear, making her choke on the smoke that was not there.

"Very well. You will go."

Shadekit looked at Mosskit, eyes filled with pain and fear. If he spoke up to go in her place like she had just done for him, it might cause _both _of them to go. Instead, he backed down and let the she-kit walk up to Rainstar.

The blue-furred leader raised her voice.

"Mosskit will now be named as WindClan's sacrifice for this next new moon. If you wish to say goodbye, please do so now."

It was official.

She was the one.

Mosskit, sacrifice of WindClan.

* * *

**A/N: Phew! Exactly 2400 words, not including the author's notes. What do you think?**


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: Here you are. Running will be put off for a few more days to a month. Depends on my mood.**

* * *

**Chapter Two**

_When this event happened, it was not predicted by any cat in StarClan. The chances were extremely low of a kit sacrificing herself or himself for their sibling, no matter how much they could feel emotions from the old world._

_As Mosskit willingly gave her own life up to protect Shadekit, something happened in Blossom's lair. Her other eye, ripped out by Silver, came back with only a thin scar to show what happened. And the eye that had been there forever?_

_It turned back to green._

_The full story need not be told, but after moons, Blossom's conscience —only still there because of those words, _I'm sorry, mother_— came to her and made her realize this voice in her heart was evil. It wasn't going to help her get anywhere when she dedicated her life to revenge. Quite like the cats before her, she had power she no longer wanted and started a rebellion against herself, fighting an inward battle, tearing herself apart._

_I understand it was complete agony. Being her half-brother whom she killed in cold blood, I should know the feeling._

_But it is impossible to escape from the voice and live a normal life. The only way to get rid of it was to pass it on like Silver did —I have no idea how many times she thinks she has to apologize to me and the sacrifices, because all she ever wanted by giving the power to Blossom was to escape— and then after you pass it on, you die. No second chances._

_Nothing but a flooding river of regret._

* * *

The first few days after Mosskit's incident passed in utter chaos. It had been raining nonstop, making the cats all cower in their dens. Prey was still delivered, no one got sick or died, but there were dark clouds that swallowed the blue sky and the warm sun, and water fell rapidly down from them.

Pit-pat. Pit-pat. The rain hummed a gentle melody in Mosskit's head. It soothed her jumpy nerves and sang to her, making her wonder who gave her this blessing, this falling water.

The ashen kit laid on a flat rock, head on her paws. She watched the droplets move down to meet the muddy earth, feeling moistness on her soft fur. It was a strange, foreign experience, this being wet.

_I can't believe that she actually enjoyed the rain. Back in the old world, rain was one of the worst things that could happen._

Mosskit loved the rain. It was cooling and calming and kept her isolated from the rest. She didn't want to be with anyone, not even Shadekit.

Her brother. Shadekit. He had caused all of this.

So why did she still love him more than anything? More than the rain?

_Love is a complicated thing. I died before I got an opportunity to experience it, and so I don't understand much. I never loved my father anyway._

She struggled with her feelings as the rain continued to fall. Because she loved Shadekit, she went in his place. Was it her fault or his?

Or no one's?

It would be better to die than to condemn herself to a life like the adult cats, not caring about anyone but themselves. Shadekit, no matter how great he was, would just be another cat in the millions, all with the same, monotone personality.

If they had been born in the old world, things would've been better. She wouldn't be sentenced to death because of a pact. She would have a Clan that loved her.

Did anyone love her here, in this world?

Mosskit shook the thought away like it was an annoying beetle. Love wasn't a part of this new world. She stared into the gray wisps in the sky, water clouding her sight.

StarClan. Were they up there? Why weren't they doing anything? Why wouldn't they help her?

_Oh, we were there. We watched as the Clans slowly became spoiled kittypets, as their nobility dissolved into laziness. But the power of the voice was like nothing else. Even StarClan couldn't save anyone from Blossom's revenge._

All the warriors claimed that StarClan was useless, that they couldn't do anything for the cats like their goddess Blossom could. Mosskit ignored them, dreaming she dreams and mulling over the old world.

"Mosskit?"

A dark gray kit, pelt slick with the rain, padded up to her with an aura of uncertainty. Mosskit could feel the fear radiating from her brother and felt a fresh wave of guilt hit her.

All her fault.

"Yeah?" She didn't turn around. She didn't want to look at him.

"I'm sorry."

"Why be sorry for something I did?"

"If I hadn't been so scared, I could've said no. I could've went in your place."

"And cause both of us to go? No."

"But Mosskit—"

"I chose to go. Live your life to its fullest, brother. Appreciate what you have in the new world."

_Wise words for a young kit. They get so philosophical because of the threat that hung over them._

"O-okay." Shadekit was shaking in the cold water. Mosskit hadn't realized how cold it was until now. She stood up, lifting herself off the rock.

"Come on. Let's go back to camp."

And all through the long walk home, the rain continued to fall.

* * *

The black she-cat paced around her lair —a dark cave with swampy, muddy ground that reminded her of her old home— with an increasing amount if aggravation, caused by both the voice and her change. She flicked her tail from side to side with uncertainty.

_Stop it. I'm trying to digest the blood._

"You can shut up," Blossom snapped to her blood-tainted heart. "I'm finally one part free of this curse. I'm not going back to two red eyes."

_You wanted me. You were consumed by me. How did this happen?_

"At least we have one thing in common," Blossom muttered through gritted teeth. "What caused this? Who saved me?"

_I hope we get the kits extra soon this moon._

"Shut your—" Blossom started, but she was interrupted by a sudden, high-pitched shriek that was uttered by none other than he goddess herself. Flaming claws were grasping her belly, contracting her insides like a python and its prey. "Stop it! Please!" Her green eye flickered from the natural color to blood red and back again.

_What's the matter? Did I push you too __hard?_

The voice was taunting her, daring her to start fuming and get consumed again by her anger and greed for revenge. Blossom wouldn't fall for it this time. She couldn't.

_I must admire my sister's courage through these times. Her voice was trying to tear her apart, and yet she stood strong; a bit more like herself again each day. The StarClan cats had mixed opinions about our Blossom, but we could all agree on the trait of courage in her true, pure heart._

"My goddess!" A brown-and-white tabby ran up to the entrance of Blossom's cave. what was once a small speck in the distance enlarged to Thrushwing, one of the goddess's most trusted WindClan spies and worker.

"There has been mayhem in all the clans. I have spoken to the others and they have reported this also."

"Reported what?" Blossom commanded, her voice made cold by the poisoned heart. Her green eye flickered back to red for a brief moment.

"A strange substance, miss, in the sky. It is of a dark, gloomy color called gray, and it looks wispy. Water falls from it nonstop."

_Whoopsies, _the voice teased. _It looks like you've been so apprehensive the past few days that your emotions have been passed on to the Clans._

Blossom unsheathed her claws and sank them deep into the boggy ground, feeling damp dirt envelop the sharp black weapons. "Those are clouds. They will pass in a few days, and tell the Clans I am sorry for the . . . _inconvenience_."

"Of course. Miss?" Thrushwing asked tentatively. "If I may ask a few questions . . . ."

"Ask away. I have all the time in the world."

"Are you okay? How did you get your face back? And what's wrong with your eye?"

"No, I don't know, and nothing's wrong with it. The green is a good thing."

"Oh." Thrushwing shuffled her paws.

"It happened five days ago, if you must know."

"Five days!" Blossom's worker stared at her goddess. "That's when the rain started. And that was they day of the sacrifice ceremony . . ."

"Tell me exactly what happened," Blossom commanded briskly. "Do not leave out a single detail."

The she-cat dipped her head quickly in a show of respect. "Rainstar called Shadekit, one of our two kits, up to become the sacrifice. The other kit, the first-born Mosskit, insisted on going in his place, and Rainstar made her the chosen one. I do not know what made Mosskit do this in such a foolish way."

"What made her do it?" Blossom felt a faraway, faded memory become stronger.

_"Blossomkit!" A blue-gray she-cat shrieked as a tiny kitten stood in front of a monstrous, striped creature that was called a badger. The kit shook, her black fur soaked and plastered to her sides from the rain. "Get away from it!"_

_Blossomkit backed up, the badger's beady black eyes boring through her. She felt queasy with fear as the animal launched itself towards her and closed her eyes, waiting for the impact._

_But it never came. Yowling with the ferocity only a mother could have, the blue she-cat intercepted the badger and tussled with it, kicking it's belly and slashing her claws mercilessly. Tiny Blossomkit watched in fear as Blueflame pinned the badger to the ground._

_"Do not," Blueflame said, her breath coming in ragged gasps, "ever go out again until you are six moons old."_

_The ash black kit looked at the ground. "I'm sorry, mama! But-but—"_

_"But what?"_

_"Why did you risk your life to save me?"_

_Blueflame's eyes softened as she looked at her child._

_"Never forget, my little flower. It's because I love you."_

"Excuse me?" Thrushwing made Blossom snap back to the present. "Miss? Why did Mosskit act like that?"

"Like what?"

"Let herself die in the place of her brother."

"That . . . ." Blossompaw traced the swampy ground with a claw, subconsciously making a distinct outline of a badger. ". . . . is complicated. You wouldn't know."

"I want to know, miss."

"That was love in front of your blind eyes. Pure love, true and untainted. Unlike a certain heart." The last sentence was directed to the vicious voice, which retaliated by squeezing her organs.

"Love?"

"I told you that you would, not understand. Leave, now." Blossom turned her back on the bemused spy and padded into the corner of her den.

_How dare you? _the voice boomed passionately once they were alone.

"All I did was remember. What's wrong with that?" Blossom challenged.

_You remembered love. Love is poison. Love will weaken you and taint your desire for revenge._

The dark she-cat bristled. "You are the poisonous one, not love. Love makes you stronger if it is handled correctly."

_If it is handled the way you are thinking of, it will weaken you._

"The way I'm thinking of is happiness. I love, and yet I am strong."

The voice gave a ragged sound, as if it was choking. _You do not love, nor do anyone else. You are strong because of me. Listen to that truth. Give your soul to me. Be consumer. You want revenge, remember? You want to kill your father._

"Mosskit knows love." Blossom tried those strange words out. It had been moons since anyone had known love.

_Do not think of her! _The voice's harsh tone sent a chill running down Blossom's spine. _She is an absurd creature. You are mine, and my power will be yours._

"I don't want your power!" Blossompaw cried. "I don't want it!"

Her heart sliced through her again, punishing her, trying to send her into a furious rage like the one she'd had on that fateful night.

_You can't run away, Blossom. I will haunt your dreams and follow your paw steps until your last breath, and you will never be free._

* * *

**A/N: About 2100 words. Not my best chapter.**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU NINE REVIEWS THAT'S THE MOST I'VE EVER GOTTEN IN ONE STORY!**

* * *

**Chapter Three**

_Just when as the rain had suddenly come, it stopped. The Clans continued on with their normal duties, with less than ten __days left until Mosskit would die as a sacrifice. This obviously lead to some nostalgia; no one wants to dwell on their fate when there are happy memories to recall. The sun rose and set as the moon waned and turned into a sliver that would soon become nothing._

_As for Blossom, her anger __at the voice increased with every passing heartbeat, and she was continuing to flicker between her true heart and her tainted one. Even I did not have that much control over the voice; my fury stood in the way as I tried to break free of the curse, and eventually I succumbed to passing it on._

_Yes, I am __Silver. And yes, I am no more than one of the bloodthirsty creatures controlled by that voice. And I regret everything._

* * *

Mosskit glared up at the bright sun wrathfully. It had taken away her rain, burned up the remaining puddles with its scorching heat.

Oh, how she hated the sun and the light it gave. She didn't want the sun, she wanted rain! She _needed _rain! Why must it keep shining on at her, smiling down cheekily as if nothing had happened?

As if her life hadn't crumbled to bits in the past days? Why must it be so _happy?_

"Mosskit?" Her brother again. He was always pestering her, wishing to spend time with his sibling to her very last breath.

_Spending time together wasn't a natural instinct of the kits. It was driven by fear and hope and everything in between._

"I'm thinking, Shadekit."

"You think a lot," commented the kit. He sat down beside her, always there to be Mosskit's shadow. Half of her brother's presence was comforting, and yet another part of her wanted Shadekit to run away and never come back.

And then the memories. They came to her in bits and pieces, as it someone had torn apart her life and tossed the remains in front of the kit:

_Mosskit blinked open her eyes, spinning dizzily until she got nudged in the right direction by a large, wet object. She batted at her mother's nose. Honeyfall chuckled and stared into Mosskit's big, kit-blue eyes. Once, she had thought here was love in that gaze. Now that her eyes were green and grown up, she realized that there was no love in this new world._

_Mosskit took her first steps outside, sniffing and pawing everything in sight. _

_Mosskit visited the elders, meeting Tangledclaw and learning of this thing called the old world._

_Mosskit grew taller and larger, getting from the size of a squirrel to a rabbit._

_Mosskit ate her first piece of fresh-kill._

_Mosskit played with her brother, Shadekit._

_Mosskit's claws and teeth grew sharper._

_Mosskit, Mosskit, Mosskit . . ._

The pale kit shook as so many scenes flashed before her eyes, scenes where she had reached a milestone and was truly elated.

"Mosskit?" A claw poked her in the side. That name again. Mosskit. Her name.

"Mosskit, there's a ThunderClan warrior!" Shadekit mewed, looking at something in the instance. Mosskit turned to see a bulky russet tom approach WindClan's leader's den.

"Rainstar, ThunderClan has a request." His deep voice reverberated through the hollow that WindClan called home. "We have no kits to serve as sacrifices this moon, and we would like to know if you have any to spare."

Out of the corner of her eye, Mosskit saw Shadekit bristle and shrink back. The she-kit was barely comprehending this piece of news.

They needed a kit. WindClan had one that was not a sacrifice.

Shadekit.

Mosskit felt like shouting things at the tom. She choked on air as Rainstar gracefully met the tom.

"Foxfoot. We have one extra kit."

"Thank you." The tom, Foxfoot, dipped his head. "ThunderClan will be grateful."

"I should hope they are."

_This happened more often than one would expect. If a Clan had no queens or kits for a moon, they would ask a different one for a sacrifice. Why ThunderClan happened to choose WindClan, I do not know._

Shadekit trembled as Foxfoot walked over to the two littermates. Mosskit was still frozen, not knowing what to do to save her brother.

The tom snarled at Mosskit and shoved her out of the way. He grabbed Shadekit by the scruff and exited the camp. Mosskit let out a cry.

"No!"

She tried to run after the two, feeling her heart thump painfully in her chest. Two WindClan warriors held Mosskit back under heavy restraint. She recognized them as Whitewater and Thrushwing.

"Listen, kit," the tabby growled. "I don't know what this 'love' thing is that our goddess told me about, but you better stop listening to it."

_It's impossible to stop listening to love. Love may die, but it will come back, learning from its past mistakes and stronger than ever before. Love is everything._ _And under the influence of the voice, Blossom destroyed love. But all was not lost. __Mosskit's actions prove that not even the power of the voice can completely vanquish love._

Mosskit stared at Thrushwing. Was it possible that the she-cat didn't know what love is? That just proved her point; the old world was better than the new world.

The kit wiggled and spun wildly. Her mind was working fast telling her again and again that there was a chance her brother was still there, that she could catch up to him.

"Let me go!" Mosskit shrieked, clawing at Whitewater. Her kit-sharp claws were unsheathed and drew a single drop of blood that fell with a splat on the ground. It disappeared quickly, swallowed by the earth, and realization hit Mosskit like a bolt of lightning.

This was what their leader Blossom wanted. To swallow up the blood of her and other kits.

"It's not fair!" Whitewater growled and shoved Mosskit against a rock.

"Goddess Blossom makes sure life is fair. Do not utter those words again, kit."

_It's not hard to see that Blossom's "perfect life" had the ability to drive cats crazy with loyalty._

Rainstar padded over to the group of three, her pelt unruffled.

"Get a cat to guard Mosskit. She will not be left unattended, even at night."

Mosskit stared at Rainstar in anger. How could such a cruel cat be named after something she loved, the rain?

Thrushwing placed a heavy paw on Mosskit's stomach and kept it there, her eyes glinting. The gray kit continued to struggle without hesitation, but the older and stronger cat didn't move a whisker.

"She'll get tired soon enough," the tabby meowed without a trace of worry to Whitewater. "You heard what Rainstar said. Get another cat."

Mosskit looked fiercely at Thrushwing in the eye.

_I know she wasn't planning on tiring. Right there and then, Mosskit vowed to continue fighting Thurshwing, Blossom, and all cats like them for the rest of her life, no matter how short it was._

* * *

Shadekit whimpered as the intimidating tom roughly pushed his sister to the side and unceremoniously took him away in his teeth. He faintly saw Mosskit run towards him and get bowled over by two cats, but then Foxfoot took a sharp turn and he saw no more of WindClan.

The two went down a trail, out of the vast expanses of the moor and into the crowded forests of ThunderClan. Shadekit wondered how any cat could live with all this undergrowth.

Soon, Foxfoot reached an area that the smoky kit supposed was camp. He dropped Shadekit at his paws.

"I assume the mission was a success?" asked a calico she-cat that gave off an aura of authority.

"Yes, Turtlestar," Foxfoot said with a dip of his head.

_ThunderClan was no longer the glorious group it had once been. All the cats hailed Mouseclaw —now an elder— for making the right decision about converting to the new world. They lazed around and basked in the sun's warmth. This Clan was truly a group of kittypets._

"Good. Bring the kit to Specklewing."

Shadekit was picked up once again and walked towards a den that smelled strongly of honey and catmint.

_Since there was no illness or injury in the perfect world, medicine cats usually collected catmint, honey, and sweet edible berries used to give behaving kits a treat._

"Can you check over her?" Foxfoot asked the silver-spotted cat that was Specklewing. Shadekit narrowed his eyes distrustfully at ThunderClan's medicine cat. Specklewing seemed unaffected by this, sniffing Shadekit all over and inspecting his paws, ears, and chest.

"He's healthy. A perfect sacrifice for Goddess Blossom."

"What confuses me is why WindClan chose the scrawny she-kit rather than this one. The Goddess likes plump kits."

Shadekit bristled. Were they criticizing his sister for her brave actions?

"The kit seems upset," Specklewing commented. "But oh well. He'll die in eight or so days, anyway."

The dark gray kit glared at Specklewing. Shadekit was right there; there was no need to talk as if he weren't listening to their every words, calculating whether he could run away fast enough to get back to WindClan. No, not WindClan; he didn't care about what happened to that bunch of useless cats. But Mosskit. His loyal sister who had taken Shadekit's place as sacrifice, who had stood up for him, who was probably devastated by this turn of events.

The distant between his spot to the exit of the ThunderClan camp was several foxlengths. He could get there in about twenty rabbit-leaps if Shadekit tried hard enough. The adult cats could get there in six long strides. It would be impossible to run away, and then they would watch over him and he would not get another chance.

_Despite his kit-innocence and status as younger brother, Shadekit had the cunning, clever mind of a fox. This would make him a dangerous enemy if he had been in the old world._

"Take him to the prey pile," Specklewing meowed. "Fatten him up a bit more. We want ThunderClan to get the best reputation with Goddess Blossom."

Foxfoot did exactly that, but Shadekit shut his jaws tightly and refused to eat. He did not mew a single word as the russet tom held a juicy-looking mouse in front of the kit.

"Come on," Foxfoot growled, sounding more and more frustrated by the moment. "Why won't you hurry up and eat?"

Shadekit gave the impatient cat a small mental smirk.

"_Eat!_" roared the russet tom, gaining the attention of several nosy, young onlookers. They chuckled and muttered quietly amongst themselves, increasing Foxfoot's uncontrollable rage.

"Eat, you mangy rat!" he snarled viciously.

"Foxfoot." A slow, commanding voice quieted the tom. "This kit is our guest. He does not have to eat if he does not want to." Turtlestar, perched on a rock, loomed over the tom despite being two-thirds of his size.

"I want to talk to you in my den."

Foxfoot groaned, gave Shadekit one last hateful glance, and followed his leader. His tail drooped noticeably.

When he was out of earshot, the onlookers that were apprentices crowded around Shadekit admiringly.

"Wow!"

"Foxfoot's an irritable furball, isn't he?"

"You're so brave!"

"I can't believe a three-moon-old kit did that to ol' Foxfoot!"

"I need some personal space!" Shadekit squeaked, painfully aware of how high his voice was compared to the deep rumbles of the other toms. He would never get a chance to be like them. There were a few giggles, then a flood of questions and comments.

"Where did you come from?"

"You smell like rabbits."

"Are you fast? I've heard WindClanners are fast."

"Are you scared?"

"What's it like, being a sacrifice?"

_Poor kit. Shadekit's head was probably spinning by these questions, not to mention the tiring and eventful day._

"Um . . ." The kit didn't know how to answer. Thankfully, he was saved by a warrior that ushered the apprentices away.

"You're acting like kits! You 'oughta be ashamed of yourselves! I . . ."

The reprimanding voice faded away as the group left Shadekit. He sighed and laid his head on his paws the way his sister always did.

_There was one thought running through his mind at that time. Shadekit knew he would see his sister again in eight days._

_For the last time._

* * *

**A/N: Anyone impressed with the speedy updating? School's out and I love this story, so you should get used to it. About the same amount of words as last time.**


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: I'm still in shock about the nine reviews. All your questions will be answered eventually.**

* * *

**Chapter Four**

_Now separated, brother and sister spent their final moments in a corner of the camp, thinking of nothing but each other. Shadekit refused to eat until Turtlestar pointed out that he would starve, which meant that he would not see Mosskit again. It was an effective way to control the two siblings: threatening them with the fact that they couldn't see the other again if they misbehaved._

_On the eighth day, when the reddish orange sun rose once again, our ashen protagonist was still under extremely heavy guard. She was escorted to Rainstar's den to "get ready" for the ceremony and the climb up Mount Crimson —a mountain that was said to be stained with the blood of ugly creatures that had been slain by the goddess__— to Blossom's lair._

_I was the first sacrifice, though not necessarily official. My name was forgotten over time, and I was just called "the kit who was first to satisfy Goddess Blossom's needs". After I died, many others came with me. All with the kitten fluff still on their faces, never getting a true chance at life. The one who is telling you this story right now, me, is Reedkit._

* * *

Mosskit shook as the pale yellow rays of sunlight crawled into the sky. It was still slightly dark, cold dew on every blade of grass. The water soaked her through and chilled to the bone, but at least it felt like rain.

The rain was what she longed for the most. She wanted to hear the song of the rain again one last time before death, to listen to the melodic pitter-patter sound. Mosskit let the dew saturate her fur and pretended it was the rain falling on her fur.

"Hurry up." Haretail, her aggressive sentry, drew his lips back in a snarl. "Sacrifice. You should be grateful that you get a chance to meet our Goddess; many of us do not have that honor."

The pale gray kit bristled. Honor? How was dying an honor? Mosskit ran on her short legs, feeling a cold substance —morning mist— on her pelt. She quickly reached a mass of wood and stone. Haretail came to a halt beside her, but Mosskit paid him no heed.

"Come in," said a frosty voice. "Quickly."

Mosskit was thrust into the den by Haretail, who left after making sure she didn't run away. The kit was left alone to face Rainstar.

"As you know, you will be sacrificed to Goddess Blossom today, along with three other kits from different Clans," the elegant leader meowed.

Mosskit glared at her leader. Shadekit was a obviously WindClan cat, not a ThunderClan one; one of the other three kits was him, and he was not from a different Clan. Rainstar ignored the she-kit's stare of defiance and continued to speak.

"We will be having a ceremony. Afterwards, your sire Stripedpelt will lead you to Mount Crimson, which you will climb to reach Blossom's lair. There, our Goddess will accept you as the four hundred thirty-sixth sacrifice of WindClan."

_Yes, this was the four hundred thirty-sixth moon in the new world. StarClan was extremely crowded with kits by now, and we hated seeing more come every moon. But there was nothing that any cat, living or dead, could do._

"Behave and look your best to earn a good opinion of WindClan from Goddess Blossom. You are doing this for WindClan's happy life, and we thank you for it." Rainstar's vooce took on an official, brisk tone.

_Empty words. They used to be filled with meaning, but as the new moons passed, it was simply a speech given to the sacrifice of WindClan.__  
_

"Yes, Rainstar." Mosskit growled softly after speaking. It was now Rainstar's turn to have her fur stand on end.

"You, a mere kit, dare growl at your leader? Ungrateful little creature!"

"What is there to be grateful for?" the kit countered.

The blue-furred leader did not reply, but instead padded out of the den and to her usual spot for meetings and occasions. "Follow me," she ordered.

Mosskit meekly did so, getting a spot on the fallen tree. Its bark was smooth like the scales of a fish, weathered by claws after claws of leaders sitting on it. She selfishly wished Shadekit was there with her, so they could go through these terrifying moments together. Mosskit wondered briefly if her brother was having his own ceremony out there, in the foreign forest of ThunderClan.

"Cats of WindClan!" Rainstar yowled, her voice ringing in Mosskit's tiny kitten ears. "Today is the day. Our sacrifice, Mosskit, will be accompanied by her father Stripedpelt to Mount Crimson to meet our Goddess Blossom. She is the four hundred thirty-sixth kit that we have given. Tonight, we shall have a feast to celebrate the new moon."

The blue-gray she-cat swiftly flicked her tail, signaling to the warriors that they could begin chanting.

"Goddess Blossom! Goddess Blossom! Goddess Blossom!"

Mosskit stared at the cats, her own Clanmates, in disgust.

_Even Mosskit's own mother was cheering. Every cat she thought had at least cared a little bit about her was willingly casting the kit away for their perfect lives. Complete rejection._

Stripedpelt dipped his head to Rainstar and padded up to stand behind Mosskit, who jerked herself away. Her dad's breath was hot on her back as he whispered to her. She could almost see his gleaming green eyes.

"Don't try anything funny, stupid kit . . . or else there might be a little _accident_ on the way to Mount Crimson."

"You wouldn't dare," Mosskit muttered as Rainstar retreated to her den and dismissed the cats. "Blossom wouldn't be happy."

The dark tabby gave his kit a look filled with menace. "Call our leader by the title of Goddess. You do not deserve to directly speak of her." He raised his voice for the cats to hear. "Now, Mosskit, we should get going."

Mosskit fluffed her fur up, but followed Stripedpelt obediently.

_She would do anything to see Shadekit again one more time, even if it was to walk to her death. Sweet, loyal Mosskit loved her younger brother so . . ._

They trekked through the vast moor towards an icy-looking landscape. Even from so far away, Mosskit could see rusty streaks covering a tall, frightening figure.

This was Mount Crimson.

This was where they were heading.

* * *

The smoky kit quivered as Turtlestar finished her complementary "Goodbye" speech and took him by the scruff. She planted him on the Highledge.

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather for an important ceremony!" the calico she-cat meowed. The ThunderClan cats gathered around Turtlestar, gazing up intently at their commanding leader and him.

Shadekit.

_Even the greatest of minds will know when to be scared. This was one of those times where Shadekit felt like cowering in the darkest spot there was in the world, covering his eyes and burying himself into the blackness for all eternity._

"Because ThunderClan had no kits this moon—" Turtlestar paused to glance at the she-cats disapprovingly "—we have . . . borrowed . . . a WindClan kit. Shadekit will go with Wetwhisker and the other sacrifices to Mount Crimson, where Goddess Blossom's lair is. There he will sacrifice himself for the good of ThunderClan. We thank you for your bravery, Shadekit." The calico cat gave a hesitant dip of her head in Shadekit's direction and swiftly disappeared into her den.

Wetwhisker, a rugged cream-colored tom, nodded to Shadekit and beckoned him over.

"Be polite when we get there," he murmured into the kit's ear. Shadekit nodded, the words flying right over his head. All the dark gray kit knew, all he was aware of, was that he would see his sister again.

"And calm yourself!" Wetwhisker snapped. Shadekit realized that he was bouncing all over the place, stirring up dust. He flattened his ears self-consciously.

"Sorry," the tomkit muttered.

Wetwhisker sighed. "C'mon, kit. Let's go. We cannot delay our travel any longer than we already have."

_ThunderClan camp was the farthest from Mount Crimson. They'd have to walk quickly to catch up with Mosskit and Stripedpelt. But Shadekit was a determined cat, that was for sure. He would find his sister again, no matter what stood in his way._

* * *

Blossom walked back and forth, ears pricked and tail erect for any sign of pawsteps. She felt weak, drained of energy, like she always did on the day of try new moon before she refueled.

_They should be coming any moment now, _her heart said greedily. _I'm hungry. I can not have this lack of power for any longer._

"I told you to be quiet," Blossom snapped. "Just shut that voice of yours, and we'll all be happier.

_Except for me._

"No one cares about you," Blossom meowed harshly. Her green eye began to flicker again. She felt like she was getting torn apart all over again, just like on that day.

She hated that day, and she wasn't going to dwell in the memory.

"_I'm so sorry, Blueflame!_" The black cat shrieked to the endless sky, shaking, but she ignored the trembles.

It was just the cold, after all . . .

_You've gone crazy, _the voice declared.

"It took you that long to figure it out?" Blossom felt herself get dangerously close to fuming. One more bit of rage and the war was lost. She couldn't give in, not yet. She had to save the Clans from the new world. She had to save herself from the voice.

_That's it. _The voice took on a silky purr. _Get angry. Be controlled by me. I feed off of your burning passion. Set yourself on fire. Get angry._

It was much more easier to succumb to this voice than to continue fighting. Blossom felt herself slipping and jerked her head up. No! She couldn't give in!

_Give me blood . . . _the voice whispered. Much to Blossom's dismay, it began chanting the same words as the night where she murdered her own half-brother.

_Want blood. Need blood. Kit blood. Young blood. Fresh blood. Want blood. Want blood. Need blood. It's mine, all MINE!_

The black she-cat jumped at the screeching voice. "No! I'm not getting controlled again!"

_We are one, my dear. You can't escape._

"You are not a part of me!" Blossom increased her speed. She started running for no apparent reason, bounding up the rocks and zig-zagging back down, as if a monster was chasing her.

_Don't bother running. I am in you. I'm your influence._

"I don't want you! I want my mother!" Blossom unwittingly sank her sharp claws into the stone beneath her feet, cracking the long weapons. "Blueflame! Forgive me! Please . . ."

_Careful with those claws. I don't want a little weakling as my host. Weakling, weakling, weakling, _the voice taunted. This time, Blossom failed to see her heart's malicious intentions and reacted like any cat who had been insulted.

The goddess bristled. "I'm not a weakling!" The moment the words escaped Blossom's muzzle, she knew she had made a fatal mistake. The anger took over, much to her voice's delight. Her flickering green eye turned into a deep bloody red and her lips were curled in a sadistic snarl. The haze came back to her vision. The goddess felt bloodlust wave over her, wanting nothing more than to tear apart the bodies of little kits. This was an untamed savagery, taunting Blossom mercilessly.

_Yes, yes, YES! _The sound of her heart intensified. It beat rapidly, as if the fury that the goddess felt was quickening it up. _I have now taken over your mind. You are mine, and do not forget that. The measly part of you that is still foolishly fighting can do nothing to stop me now._

Blossom had lost once again.

* * *

**A/N: This barely made it to 2000 words. You have no idea how long I was tugging at my hair and adding details to reach the goal. The next chapter, however, will be more interesting. *evil cackle* Read and review, my peeps!**


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: This shall be a good chapter. However, I am typing this before I write the actual story, so there's no promises.**

**Also, there will be two deaths. **

* * *

**Chapter Five**

_StarClan were watching down helplessly at the next four sacrifices, just like they did every new moon._

_Ravenkit of ShadowClan. He was a fluffy black cat with a gray underbelly and stubby legs. Amber eyes. The tomkit was bold and sometimes disrespected his elders. Obviously, he had to go or else there might be disasters in his Clan._

_Duckkit of RiverClan was a sleek, pretty __kit. She was older than the other sacrifices —five moons, to be exact— but was chosen nonetheless. She had a solid yellow pelt and green eyes. The she-kit was very disapproving of those younger than her._

_Shadekit —of course, you should know him well— was sacrifice of ThunderClan and kit of WindClan. He was a young smoky gray kit with forest-green eyes and long legs. The kit had a cunning mind, no doubt._

_Mosskit of WindClan was a pale gray she-kit. She had bright, lively green eyes and was from the same litter as Shadekit. Small, tough, and rebellious, the little kit was loyal to the very end._

_The Clans' ancestors analyze the kits every time they are chosen. Once they go to StarClan, they are given a job, based on their abilities. Reedkit was the one who took them to StarClan. Other tasks were storytelling, advising, telling riddles, and the like. When they came to StarClan, Ravenkit would be a guard. Duckkit would be a swimmer, Shadekit an idea maker, and Mosskit would comfort sacrifices._

_Only things didn't go as we had planned. I, Silver, could not have foreseen the lengths that a kit would go for love._

* * *

Mosskit looked at the group of eight; warrior and kit. She pushed past numerous pelts and cats, only looking for one.

Shadekit.

Her brother and best friend was also wandering around, swinging his head from side to side. Not watching the path in front of them, the two litermates bumped noses and fell backwards with the impact.

"Mosskit!" Shadekit was the first to speak, scrambling up clumsily onto his paws. Mosskit stared at the figure in front of her. How could someone you knew your whole life change so much in eight days' time? The smoky kit was stronger somehow, and thinner. He had lost most of his fluffy fur, and Mosskit realized that she had as well. She purred and nuzzled Shadekit.

"You two know each other?" inquired a yellowish she-kit. She was well-groomed and had no kit-fur.

"Shouldn't you be an apprentice?" Shadekit asked boldly.

"I'm only five moons. Do you know each other?" repeated the she-kit.

Mosskit and Shadekit exchanged glances. Five moons was old to them.

"We do," Mosskit replied at last. "We're littermates."

The kit eyed them critically as they walked to their doom. "My name's Duckkit. Of RiverClan, if you must know."

"I'm Mosskit."

"Call me Shadekit."

_They had just met mere seconds ago, but were alike in the way that they would never grow up. The last moments of their short lives would be spent under the claws of their Goddess Blossom._

"My name's Ravenkit!" yowled a black-and-gray kit as he bounced up to meet the group. "I'm from ShadowClan!"

"How old are you three?" Duckkit muttered. "A moon?"

"Three," Mosskit and Shadekit mewed at the same time. It was interrupted by Ravenkit, who meowed "four".

"Shut up back there and get your tail over here," growled an irritable red she-cat. Ravenkit flattened his ears and stalked towards the cat. Shadekit sighed and looked at a creamy cat who was probably from ThunderClan. Mosskit spotted Stripedpelt chatting to —and perhaps trying to impress— a pretty brown tabby. The ashen she-kit curled her lip, annoyed with her father's flirtatious attitude despite having a mate.

"Is your escort trying to attract mine?" Duckkit wondered, padding close to Mosskit so their pelts brushed. "It sure seems like it."

"That's my dad," Mosskit meowed, holding back a snarl.

"Who's the unlucky mother?"

"Honeyfall."

Shadekit was also watching their sire with disgust as Stripedpelt brushed his tail along the tabby's flank.

"Her name's Brownfeather, if you want to know," Duckkit whispered in Mosskit's ear. "She's one of the less pretty ones in RiverClan, so she might be a bit . . . open to your dad."

"I don't care," Mosskit stated bluntly. "Right, Shadekit?" She whacked her brother with a sheathed paw.

"Yeah, he's not much of a father," Shadekit agreed.

"I feel bad for you two."

Mosskit shrugged her shoulders. "We're used to it. This is the new world, isn't it?"

"I thought I told you to be quiet!" yowled the same reddish ShadowClan escort from before.

"No, she told us to shut up," Shadekit muttered cheekily under his brearh. Mosskit and Duckkit both stifled a giggle as the she-cat whipped around and glared at them with piercing yellow eyes.

_Oh, the poor lighthearted kits. They were trying to calm themselves, to ease their anxiety with little jokes and comments. Fresh, unexperienced life that would soon be taken away for the voice's own selfish desires._

They walked along in silence like that for the rest of the journey. As the sun rose, their spirits fell and soon they paused only to watch a leaf fall carelessly off a tree or a stream flowing gently along. Mosskit watched a butterfly, her heart aching as she remembered the white one that had flown into Shadekit's eye that day.

The butterfly landed on Shadekit's nose. He was obviously trying not to sneeze or move. Suddenly, the creamy ThunderClan warrior that Shadekit had looked at before crushed the insect. He tore off its fragile wings and left it twitching until it moved no more. Mosskit noticed that the blue patterns on one side of the wings were like raindrops that were hidden by a brown, dead side.

_Details like this often go unnoticed by the serious adults. Young kits, however, can see them and find a meaning in them. This particular butterfly showed Mosskit how the raindrops were there, but they were always covered by the dark brown unless you believed that the blue existed._

"We must continue at a faster pace. Our Goddess will be very displeased if we don't get there by sunhigh," Brownfeather meowed briskly. One by one, the other warriors agreed. Shadekit and Mosskit, being the youngest, tripped and stumbled a lot more than proud Duckkit and rebellious Ravenkit.

"Are you scared?" Shadekit's unexpected susurrus caught Mosskit by surprise. "About what'll happen next, I mean."

"What's there to be scared of?" Mosskit murmured. "A quick swipe to the neck and then you're done. Gone. And we'll see each other in StarClan again."

"Do you really think StarClan exists?"

"Of course!"

"Then why won't they help us?" Shadekit cried. "The only reason is that Blossom is too powerful, but who could have more power than StarClan? It's impossible!"

"Not necessarily. But now that I think of it, that kind of power scares me. What lengths will a cat go to obtain it?"

"Very long, seeing as we're walking to our deaths for Blossom to get it," Shadekit muttered bitterly.

_Like I've mentioned before, kits in the new world are much more like true warriors than the adults will ever be._

"We're here!" The ThunderClan tom gave a triumphant yowl. "Mount Crimson."

Mosskit stared a the huge wall of stone before her, red streaks dancing across the mountain. Claws from cats long ago scarred the figure and left pebbles that were once a part of it beneath the cats' feet. Mount Crimson was huge.

Duckkit and Raven kit grabbed on to their escorts' tails. Brownfeather and the ShadowClan she-cat started climbing the mountain. They jumped and held onto a part a bit above where they had been before. Using these jumps, the two gradually got to the top.

The ThunderClan cat and Stripedpelt grabbed Shadekit and Mosskit by their scruffs, respectively. With the same jumps, the last four reached Goddess Blossom's lair.

"This is where we leave you," the red she-cat announced. "Behave yourselves." The warriors started to depart, but Mosskit gave out a cry.

"I'm not ready!" She spun around wildly and grabbed the tail closest to her; Stripedpelt. The tom growled and attempted to bat Mosskit off, but the kit clutched her father's tail even tighter in her unsheathed claws.

Brownfeather shrugged. "Might as well deal with it, Stripedpelt. She'll die soon enough." At these words, Stripedpelt gave a grudging nod and continued towards Blossom's lair. Mosskit clung to Stripedpelt's tail like her life depended on it.

Maybe it did.

Shadekit walked beside Mosskit, confusion clear in his eyes. "Why'd you do that?"

Mosskit murmured something incomprehensible through her father's fur.

_I believe that even Mosskit herself didn't know exactly why she reached for Stripedpelt at the last moment. Perhaps it was a mere instinct, an action driven by fear, but she did it._

"My lady!" Stripedpelt entered the intimidating den, the four kits following close behind.

A she-cat padded into the little light there was. Her night-black fur gleamed and she emitted a strange white glow. Mosskit let go of the tail and shivered, staring at the two cold red eyes. Blossom was younger than she has expected.

"Why are you here?" Blossom demanded, speaking to Stripedpelt.

"I apologize, Goddess Blossom." Mosskit felt bile rise in her throat as her father groveled at the she-cat's feet, burying himself into the mud floor. "This kit, Mosskit of WindClan, grabbed on to my tail and refused to let go. I will leave now."

"Wait!" All the cats in the cave froze and stared at Mosskit. The pale gray kit closed her mouth, watching a worm crawl in the mud with a strange amount of interest.

"I am sorry for the kit's impudence," Stripedpelt meowed, bowing once again to Blossom.

"Stripedpelt!" Mosskit mewed, louder this time. "I . . . want to talk to you. Father."

Her sire did not pay any attention, but padded away with a last dip of his head to Blossom until an icy mew stopped Stripedpelt.

"Listen to your kit." Blossom's voice chilled Mosskit's spine. Stripedpelt paused and turned around to watch Mosskit. As if on cue, words flowed out of the little she-kit's mouth.

"Stripedpelt, I know you never really cared for Shadekit and me, or Honeyfall at that." Mosskit trembled. "And you weren't the best father there was. But still, without you, I wouldn't have lived my life, no matter how abruptly it will end today. I would never have met Shadekit, the best brother I could ever have. I would never have heard tales of fire and ice and things beyond your reasoning. I would never have found the rain or met a butterfly." The kit's green eyes clouded with memories. "And so I have to say thank you. Daddy . . . I love you."

_What stood out to me about Mosskit the most was her ability to love those that had never cared about her. I always knew she had that characteristic, but this was going too far. Stripedpelt loathed his kits, and Mosskit thanked him for it._ _It was the same father-daughter relationship as with Blossom and Mouseclaw, and yet the daughter loved her father anyway for no apparent reason._

Mosskit concluded her little speech and looked up at their goddess Blossom, trying to read her thoughts from body language. She was stiff, her ears pricked and listening to every word. And was one of her eyes . . . _flickering_?

Stripedpelt also stared at Blossom. "Again I must apologize that Mosskit was not raised correctly—" He was cut off by a snarl from the black she-cat.

"She was raised perfectly well. If you think not, then she was raised '_wrongly_' because her own _father _wasn't_ there _for her!"

The sacrifices watched in horror as Goddess Blossom drove Stripedpelt up against the cave wall. Stripedpelt writhed and wriggled out of the goddess's loose grasp, his eyes fearful.

Blossom gave a fearsome yowl and launched herself at the dark tabby tom. He skidded clumsily to the side, making the black cat twist mid-leap and land on Stripedpelt. There was a sickening _crack._

The black she-cat rose to her paws and looked disdainfully at the broke Stripedpelt. She unsheathed a single claw and traced the artery in the tabby's neck. Stripedpelt breathed in gasps, staring up at the goddess he had been so eager to bow down to mere heartbeats ago.

After a moment of teasing, Blossom sank her claw deep into the neck of the dark cat and licked the blood off her claw thoughtfully.

Stripedpelt lay in a pool of his own red blood. It seeped into the ground and Mosskit subconsciously realized she was standing on a dark stain not unlike that of her father's blood. He gave another ragged gasps and jerked once before laying still.

Mosskit did not miss the hateful glance that had been directed at her moments before Stripedpelt's death.

Like the butterfly as it ceased to twitch or the rain as it stopped falling, he was gone.

* * *

**A/N: Yup, the butterfly was one of the deaths.**

**...scared you, didn't I? This was probably my first death scene in the history of my writing. And I am proud.**

**Please, give me a little constructive critism. Anyone. Don't say you "suck" at it or whatever. DO IT.**


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: I have a slight case of writer's block, so don't expect this chapter to be the best. If it's absolutely horrible, I'll redo it later.**

* * *

**Chapter Six**

_No, Stripedpelt did not enter StarClan after his death. He haunted the minds of Mosskit and Shadekit and left WindClan in the dark about what had happened, but he did not gain a pelt of stars or walk among those who no longer walk this earth. His heart was too dark, and it would've destroyed the already weak ancestors._

_We watched on as the tabby died in his own blood, his throat slashed mercilessly by Goddess Blossom in her little fit of rage. And we felt not a scrap of sympathy._

_Duckkit, Ravenkit, Shadekit, and Mosskit feared what would happen to them next, after Blossom had tossed the corpse of Stripedpelt aside and came to them. There would be more death._

_Being the first to die by my half-sister's claws, I can__ completely __sympathize._

* * *

Blossom stared at the pale gray kit as she began reeling out words. Words that told the story of her life. How her father hated her, but she loved him anyway. For the rain. For the butterflies. For the fire, the ice, and her brother.

This was the exact opposite of her life, and yet it was the same. A dad who had ruined his daughter's life. Same.

A daughter who loved her father no matter what he did or how much he loathed her. Different. Blossom felt the voice receding just a bit, and her eye felt like it was flickering again. Because these words made even more memories swim before her eyes.

_"Blueflame?" Blossomkit licked the __ruffled fur on her chest. Her mother touched her noae to Blossomkit's head._

_"Yes, my little flower?" _

_"What's a father?" _

_Blueflame's eyes portrayed shock. "Where in the name of StarClan did you hear that word?"_

_Blossomkit shuffled her paws. "Adderkit asked me who mine was."_

_The blue she-cat narrowed her amber eyes. "A father . . . is a parent who's a tom."_

_"I thought you were my parent," the black kit squeaked. "How could I have two?"_

_"Oh, my dear. Everyone has to have two."_

_"Then why don't I know him?" The moon-old kit stared up innocently at Blueflame. "Who is my father__?"_

_Blueflame sighed, a sound that whistled past Blossomkit's ears. "I won't ever lie to you, my flower. Remember that."_

_"I'll remember, I promise!"_

_"His name is Mouseclaw." Though she didn't know it yet, these words would change Blossomkit's life._

_"Mouseclaw?" The kit wrinkled her nose. "I don't know anyone in ShadowClan named Mouseclaw. Is he the deputy or somethin'?"_

_"No. He is Mouseclaw of ThunderClan."_

_"Does he love me like you?"_

_Another sigh. "I don't know, Blossomkit. I really don't know."_

Blossom narrowed her eyes at Stripedtail. Instead of a dark tabby with green eyes, she saw a gray-and-orange cat. In this cat, she saw her father.

The next few moments passed by subconsciously. She felt herself swiping at the tom, knew when she was tracing his neck, saw the pool of blood.

But she didn't know that she had just killed until she saw the blood on her claw and the tabby's neck twisted awkwardly to one side. Goddess Blossom saw him writhe, once, and then he left the world.

* * *

Shadekit eyed the bloodied mess of his father. The body was kicked to the side by Blossom, who now focused on the four kits. She gave a strange, wild sound that could've been a chuckle.

"I see the sacrifices have been delivered . . ." Her voice sounded young and faraway, like that of an apprentice.

_Shadekit was awfully observant. He saw and heard details that no other cat, kit or warrior, could see or hear._

The smoky kit analyzed his enemy. The black cat's eye seemed to be flickering between the usual red and another color.

Green?

It decided to settle on the leafy forest color. Shadekit noticed that Blossom seemed more aware of her surroundings now, and she spat out the blood that she had lapped up from her claw moments before. Then the black cat gave a raspy whisper. No one else seemed to notice it, but Shadekit did.

"What have I done . . . ?"

And so he stepped forward to answer her question.

"I know what you have done."

Mosskit and the other sacrifices stared at him in horror. Of course; they were expecting him to get killed this very moment.

"You have murdered my father in cold blood without even realizing it. You were driven mad by some kind of memory or voice. Rage is in your heart."

_Even StarClan didn't know how Shadekit gained these quick spurts of wisdom. He was an insignificant kit, a sacrifice amongst many others, and yet he possessed a power no one else had._

The goddess watched the smoky tomkit curiously for a moment before turning to the other sacrifices. She looked as if she was being torn apart; like a half of her wanted the kits to go and not die, but the other bit wanted to tear into them and drink their blood.

"I see ThunderClan and WindClan gave me cheeky kits this moon. But no matter. They will die."

An paw slashed at Shadekit's throat and he braced himself for the pain and darkness that came with it.

* * *

Mosskit was moving before she even thought anything through. She got a deep wound on the cheek, but the kit's unsheathed claws latched on to Blossom's. The two stayed there, staring into each other's eyes for a brief moment. The black cat stepped away from the heavily bleeding Mosskit.

"Why did you do that?" The goddess asked five simple words that had a simple answer.

"I love my brother," Mosskit croaked as salty blood flowed in to her mouth and down her throat.

Blossom looked stiffly from Shadekit, who was standing stone still as he supported his sister's weak body. She turned to Duckkit and Ravenkit, who were cowering in the shadows of the cave.

Ravenkit curled his lip, showing a small set of fangs. The black cat merely chuckled. Mosskit buried her head, sticky with blood, into Shadekit's shoulder just in time. She heard a cry of agony and a snarl.

And yet another life had been taken.

_Ravenkit was first to die of the four. It was probably the most painful death since moons. Blossom had cut the neck deeply; too deep._

Shadekit shuddered, a movement that shook Mosskit away from the tom. She cast her eyes to another mess of blood that matched Stripedpelt's.

Mosskit screamed.

The black ShadowClan sacrifice's head was torn completely off his body. It had been severed off by Blossom's claws.

A kit, right before her very eyes, had been beheaded.

Her screams seemed to have awoken something in the black she-cat. The goddess stared at the dispatched Ravenkit before stepping neatly over it and going to Duckkit. The bloodlust had all but evaporated from Blossom's eyes. It was as if something was controlling her as she swiped at Duckkit, who fell as silently as the butterfly.

_Perhaps the yellow kit had been muted by the sudden shock of Ravenkit's death. But she didn't make a single sound during her execution._

The body earned a quick look of agony from Blossom before getting passed over like the last. The fearsome she-cat advanced towards the last two sacrifices.

Mosskit, and her brother.

The pale gray she-kit pressed against her bristling littermate. Blood continued to flow from her face onto the ground. Mosskit shielded Shadekit, waiting for the blow.

But it never came. Instead, the goddess meowed:

"Run. Run away, before the voice gets back to me and I kill you two." Blossom's face was strained and weary, her voice hoarse. The black cat's green eye was shining with a pure light. Mosskit heard herself whimper. Shadekit pushed his sister forward, ready to run, and the siblings exchanged quick glances. Was the goddess crazy? What was the voice she was talking about?

And suddenly, before they could move, there was a sort of explosion.

_Blossom couldn't take it anymore. Her life had been twisted since the moment she learned about her father. The voice was feeding off her rage and pushing her in the opposite direction she wanted to go in life. And so she fixed her mind on one goal in life: to escape her tainted heart._

The goddess roared and leaped at Shadekit, pinning him to the ground. Mosskit feebly swiped at Blossom's sheathed paw.

"Listen. Mosskit, I'm offering you a deal."

Mosskit paused and pricked her ears. Blossom's grip of Shadekit was loosening.

"If you stay with me and be my apprentice, you and your brother will live."

"Why would I ever want to do your dirty work?" questioned the kit.

"Because your life and this kit's life depends on it," the goddess meowed simply. She let Shadekit get to his paws. The smoky tomkit shook himself.

Blossom sat down watching Mosskit. The pale gray kit looked at Shadekit, then back to the goddess. She knew she was choosing the coward's way out.

"I accept."

"Very well," Blossom said briskly. "You two should stay out of my sight, just in case the voice controls me again. Fleabag." Her voice lowered menacingly, and Mosskit saw her brother shuddering.

_Those kits would do anything to protect each other, even if they had to jump off a cliff or run across the while earth to do it._

Mosskit did as the goddess said and stayed behind. Her face had stopped bleeding at last, but she felt dizzy. Shadekit continued to walk down the tunnel that Blossom had started walking to, letting his sister lean on him.

"How did you do it?"

The question caught Mosskit by surprise. Blossom had turned around.

"How did I do what?"

"Do . . . that. Love the father that hated you."

"He gave me the rain."

The black she-cat growled. "You gave yourself the rain. And you saved me." Mosskit stared at Blossom, who continued to speak.

"On the day of your sacrifice ceremony, Shadekit was the one who was chosen. Yet even though he did absolutely nothing to save your life, you loved him enough to go in his place. That's what broke a bit of the spell. _Love._"

_Blossom had onl__y felt love once in her life, and it had hurt her beyond words. She didn't understand why cats would still love despite the grief that would come. And that was why she wiped out love during the creation of the new world_

"My eye turned green. Long ago, I had the same thing you did; a father who hated me. I was ShadowClan. He was ThunderClan. He ruined my life and tore it to bits, and my rage took a hold of me. I swore revenge on Mouseclaw.

"Then I met a cat named Silver. She was desperate; completely consumed by the voice and looking for a cat she could give the curse to. She lured me in with the promise of power. Took out my eye—" Blossom displayed the thin scar that ran down her red eye "—and made me drink her blood."

Mosskit felt herself choke. "You drank blood?"

"I was overwhelmed by my lust for power. And then the voice became my heart; my tainted one. It spoke to me and turned my spark of anger into a wildfire of fury. And so I did this. I ruined the Clan, all for revenge."

Everything fit in Mosskit's head, and she realized what Blossom wanted just as Shadekit spoke.

"You want my sister to be your heir." His voice was shockingly cold.

"Not necessarily. I have a plan to get rid of the voice." The goddess dipped her head to the two kits and continued walking into a tunnel that had been hidden in her lair. Blossom sighed.

"In the end, the only one who will die is me."

* * *

**A/N: Yup, Mosskit is helping Blossom regain control of herself again. And then our loveable goddess will die.**

**Or so she thinks.**


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: Yuppers, it's another chapter. I'm alive.**

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

_For some inexplicable reason, it was easier for Blossom to rebel against her voice when she was in the same area as Mosskit. The pale kit's presence seemed to soothe her fury and tame her passion._

_And down the winding tunnel they walked, the two kits and the goddess, until they reached their destination; ShadowClan's former training hollow. There Blossom lost her authority over the heart. There it took over, and she snarled at the kits and let her voice run free as they viciously trained._

* * *

"Fight! Fight, you useless worms!" Blossom yowled. She was in complete ecstasy. There was no more weariness holding down her paws, no more fighting against herself. Her voice was her, and it would remain that way. The goddess felt more abler than she had in moons as she moved fluidly to dodge the kits' feeble blows, as she twirled and leaped and kicked. She growled at them some more, her tainted heart leaping in delight.

_Ahh. Bloodshed. An amazing thing._

And she agreed; Blossom agreed with every fibre of her being.

"Come on! Call yourselves warriors?" the black she-cat taunted. Mosskit was cowering in a corner of the hollow, flanked by her brother Shadekit. They merely dodged as she lashed out and swiped their tiny paws at her nose; nothing more, nothing less.

_They're completely useless,_ said the voice. _Why don't we . . . dispatch . . . them now?_

The goddess was about to nod her head in agreement, but something was holding her back. That something made her stop right when her paw connected with Shadekit's muzzle, making her draw only a single drop of blood instead of tearing it off like she —or was it the heart?— had planned.

All three cats watched, entranced, as the crimson liquid ran off the smoky kit's nose and fall on to the floor with a splat. Then, after it had been swallowed whole by the earth, something in Blossom snapped. She remembered one heartbeat too late that she had not taken the blood required to keep her fueled.

And the she-cat collapsed, her mind dizzy and growing fuzzier by the second. But there was one thing she could make out, that familiar chant, and she whispered it as she fell into unconsciousness.

"Want blood. Need blood. Kit blood. Young blood . . . ."

* * *

Mosskit shook as she padded cautiously towards the limp black figure of Blossom. What had happened? Why hadn't Shadekit died from the attack? Why had the goddess only drawn one drop of blood?

Oh, questions like those were useless.

The pale she-cat could see her brother pricking his ears, as if he heard something. Mosskit stepped closer to the body and listened intently. She could make out a sound . . .

"Something about needing kit blood," Shadekit announced. Mosskit scrunched her face up, thinking. An answer to the strange words suddenly dawned on her.

"Of course! She never drank the blood of the sacrifices!"

Her smoky brother's eyes brightened. "Right!"

A pause.

"But then . . . who'll get the blood?"

The question brought back unwanted memories of a severed black head _thud_ding onto the ground in their cave. Mosskit shuddered, her spine chilled.

"It was your question," she offered.

"But it was your idea!" the tomkit argued.

"Do we have to go back there? I mean," Mosskit mewed, aware of her stinging cheek, "why don't we give her our blood?"

Shadekit stared at Mosskit incredulously. "Are you crazy? She just let us go and now you want to die? We'd be better off running away."

"So why don't we run away?" Now that the thought had been spoken aloud, the pale gray kit's paws itched to move.

"I don't know. It feels . . . wrong, somehow, to leave her lying here like this." Her brother scuffed his paws on the ground, stirring up dust.

_Shadekit had a strong instinct of the warrior code; he was and is an honorable, compassionate cat. He would never leave a cat behind and would help anyone, from they youngest kit to the oldest elder._

"Make up your mind," Mosskit snapped. She felt weary from the day's events, and it was an effort to even keep her eyes open. Maybe it would be better to go to sleep.

No.

This was an emergency. She couldn't ignore the close-to-death Blossom, no matter how vicious and crazy the goddess was. She owed Blossom her life.

"I'll give her my blood," Shadekit meowed suddenly. Mosskit noted that his paws were shaking and shook her head.

"It's okay. I can just go back and get the other bodies." It sounded even more scary, even more disgusting once the word _bodies_ had been uttered. The she-kit immediately regretted having said anything at all. But before she could react, Shadekit had planted himself in front of her.

"Mosskit. Claw me."

"I can't do that!"

"You have no choice. Either both of us die from being hungry or something, or I loose a little blood."

Mosskit stared at her brother. His amber gaze was drained of its usual light, his pelt duller. How had he changed in appearance and spirit so much? It had only been that morning where they had been reunited, prancing in the meadow.

_No one wants to purposely wound their own loved ones, and Mosskit felt the same. She knew she had to do it, but at the same time she couldn't._

"Okay." The word was only a whisper, a quiet breath, but it had been spoken. Mosskit thought she saw a glimmer of happiness in Shadekit's orbs before she closed her eyes and slashed his muzzle, deepening the cut that Blossom herself had given.

The pale kit stood by as her brother came closer to the goddess's body and pressed his nose to her mouth. She counted the drops of blood —one, two, three, four, five, six, seven— as they landed neatly, in succession, on the black cat's snout.

A pink tongue flitted out of Blossom's mouth and licked its lips. Shadekit stepped back and stood to Mosskit's side as the goddess rose elegantly. Her eyes —though when she had collapsed both were red, one was now green— fluttered open and fixed themselves on the two littermates.

"Why?" Blossom rasped. Her voice grew stronger, and she repeated the question. "Why did you do it for me?"

_After all the terrible things she had done, Blossom never expected that anyone —let alone kits that had been condemned to getting murdered by herself— would help her. After all those moons of listening to only her tainted heart, she assumed all the other cats' hearts were as cold as hers was. The goddess was quite a cynical cat, that was for sure._

Shadekit was the one to answer. "We don't let cats die if there's something we can do about it."

The black cat shook her head, and Mosskit thought she could hear a small chuckle. "I wouldn't die. I would probably lapse into darkness. An eternal sleep, you could call it."

"An eternal sleep." The pale kit repeated the words, running them over her tongue. She liked them, liked the way they flowed and sounded. "An eternal sleep."

Blossom looked over at Mosskit. Was that a flash of curiosity in the goddess's eyes? The gray kit felt self-conscious as Blossom's intent gaze raked her pelt.

"Why are you so different?" Shadekit asked unexpectedly. "When we were fighting —training, you called it— you were so mean! And now you're . . . nicer."

"Am I?" the goddess asked softly. "You think I'm nice?"

"Now you are," Shadekit responded simply.

"Before that, I was controlled by the voice," Blossom explained. "I told you what happened. My heart grew tainted, and it _controlled_ me." She spat the word _controlled_ like it was some kind of insult.

"Will it happen again?" Mosskit asked timidly. She trembled at the thought of conversing with the goddess, the goddess that was feared and honored throughout the four clans.

"It probably will." The she-cat's meow was grim. "But when it does—" her green eye flickered, and Blossom took a deep breath and waited for it to return to the leafy color before continuing "—when it does, tell me to remember Blueflame."

"Blueflame?" Shadekit echoed. He opened his jaws to speak, but one glance from the black cat told both him and Mosskit that this 'Blueflame' cat —if it was even a cat, the she-kit didn't know— was a touchy subject.

"Any more questions?" Blossom asked briskly. Neither kit replied. "Good. Let me see your crouches, and I'll get you to learn how to hunt in no time."

* * *

Shadekit yawned. It had been a tiring day, filled with battle moves and hunting practice and clan lore and learning about the whole world. He trod tiredly after Mosskit, his tail drooping in exhaustion.

"Tired?"

The smoky kit jerked his head up as he heard his sister's sympathetic mew.

"Yeah," he admitted. "Completely worn out." Shadekit mustered some remaining strength to jump over a rock that was half his size. They were walking down the long tunnel again. How far did it stretch! It felt like moons since he had last had a proper nap . . .

"Where are we going?" his sister asked. Shadekit wasn't sure whether the question was directed at him or Blossom, but he answered anyway.

"I have no idea."

The goddess overheard their conversation. "We're going to the cave. You can sleep there."

Both kits emitted twin sighs of relief. Shadekit glanced up at Blossom. Why was she so strange? There were so many questions he wanted to ask but was too scared to, so many things he wanted to say but couldn't.

_The desire to get information, the craving for knowledge, is common amongst kits and young apprentices of the new world. But never before has any kit wondered about their Goddess Blossom's past. Not till then._

"Well, there's still a long way ahead." The black she-cat stretched. "It'll be a good chance to test you."

Mosskit and Shadekit exchanged horrified glances. They wanted to _rest_, not get tested. There was a single heartbeat of silence before Blossom asked the first question.

"What are ticks?"

"Bugs," Shadekit answered after a moment of thought.

"Annoying bugs," Mosskit added.

"They suck your blood!" both chirped at the same time.

"And?" their 'mentor' prompted.

"And . . . they like elders?" Shadekit asked. He received a cuff on the head, one that was much harder than necessary. The smoky gray kit winced. Blossom shot him an apologetic look before turning to Mosskit.

"Well?"

Shadekit's sister looked mutely at the she-cat with wide eyes. Neither of them had an answer. The goddess sighed. "Very well. You use mouse-bile to get rid of them."

"But that's not fair!" Mosskit squeaked indignantly. "We're gonna be _warriors_, not medicine cats!" This earned her a swat of her own. Though it seemed like Blossom was trying to hold back this time, Shadekit observed that she still lashed out with more power than any normal cat.

"You two will be the only ones left with any useful knowledge about the old world if my plan is successful," the black cat hissed. Her green eye was flickering, her pelt bristled. "You must know _everything_."

Mosskit opened her jaws to retort, but Shadekit flicked his tail over her mouth and gave his sister a warning glance. He turned back to Blossom.

"Give us another question, then. It's only been one day," he meowed boldly.

The eye quickened in speed of flickering until it landed on green. Shadekit realized he had been holding his breath and exhaled. Blossom's fur had flattened.

"Okay. What is . . . the Moonpool?"

"A shiny pool," Mosskit replied. She seemed sullen after being cuffed and told off by her own sibling.

"And you drink from it," Shadekit supplied.

"Why?" the goddess asked as they continued to walk down.

_Patience was not one of Blossom's strong suits. She had to work very hard on it, especially now that she had two kits that knew nothing about the old world to mentor._

"To meet . . . I forget the name . . ." Mosskit closed her eyes and tilted her face upwards, as if trying to listen for the answer.

"StarCats?" Shadekit guessed.

"Nice try. Star_Clan_," Blossom muttered through gritted teeth. The smoky kit saw her claws were unsheathed. But then again, she had praised him.

_The simple words "Nice try" was a sentence of approval that no cat would expect Blossom to ever say to one lower in position than her._

"Oh."

After Mosskit's small mew, the three walked all the way back in complete silence except for the sound of feet falling on the soft earth.

And then finally, they were there. Without pausing to look for any comfortable spot, Shadekit collapsed in a corner of the cave. His sister came over with him and they curled up together. Through a half-closed eye, he saw Blossom lay down in a mossy nest that seemed to be her usual spot. Shadekit yawned for about the fourth time that evening.

"Will we learn more tomorrow?" he asked drearily.

"Yes, much more," came the response. "You should sleep well, because there's a lot of work to do tomorrow." There was a brief hesitation, then warm words that were completely unexpected:

"Good night . . . good night, little ones."

"Good night, Blossom."

"G'night, Blossom."

* * *

**A/N: Yay! Happy ending! **

**Yes, I know you hate me for waiting so long before updating. This is the third rough draft I've done. It's most likely ****my worst; seems kind of rushed, not that much detail, out-of-character Blossom, e.t.c. Good news is, I've finally filled that gap and will hopefully update quicker next time.**

**Also, a challenge for all the reviewers out there.**

**If we ever reach 40 reviews, I will reply to them in my author's notes. So if you're a reviewer to likes to be appreciated and you want to see my response, review every chapter and hopefully we'll make it to forty.**


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N: Over 30 reviews! Keep 'em coming, guys/girls/inhuman aliens/whatever.**

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

_Two and a half moons passed, both filled with terrified screams of sacrifices. I had to do a lot of work, those moons; the kits were especially young. Younger than even me —two moons, and the very most. Blossom couldn't completely control her voice. No, only her plan would be able to convert them back to the old world. She didn't have quite the same a out of power she had when she changed everything._

_Mosskit and Shadekit both grew in those moons. They finally lost their kit fur, though it was only a short while ago that they believed they would die before losing it. Their bones grew stronger, their pelts sleeker. They both harbored scars from brutal training lessons, and they would get more in the days to come. They were now six moons, ready to become apprentices. But an obstacle stood in their way._

_No, I do not envy them for getting a chance at life. I am nothing but happy for them, even though my name is Reedkit and I was murdered by the goddess._

* * *

"Is it time yet?"

"No."

"But you said—"

"_No_, Mosskit."

Mosskit stared defiantly at Blossom. Why was the she-cat breaking her promise? "But—"

"No more whining. We have healing lessons today."

"If I remember correctly," Shadekit meowed, "you said we were becoming apprentices today." Mosskit stared at her brother. His voice had deepened, but the playful twinkle in his eyes never changed a bit. Did she have the same well-groomed pelt as him, the same lean legs and muscle?

"Well," Blossom said dangerously, "I changed my mind." Her green eye seemed dimmer, which warned the two littermates not to argue.

_The 'dim' color of green was a dark yellowish color, the result of mixing blood red and bright green. Though the eye wasn't flickering, the yellow meant the same: the goddess was losing her patience, and you had to watch out._

"Let us review," the black cat continued. "What is burdock root used for?"

"Rat bites," Mosskit answered immediately. She had spent more than one night awake, trying to quiz herself on herbs and their uses to avoid getting chewed out by her 'mentor'.

"This one's for Shadekit: What is a herb used for infection, and how do you use it?"

"Marigold, chew it up into a poultice," he said almost boredly. Mosskit could sympathize with his frustration. They had already learned this; Blossom said they would do _advanced_ training once they were apprentices, and she said they would be apprentices _today_.

"Borage leaves?"

"Milk for queens," Mosskit called.

"Cracked pads?"

"Dock," Shadekit mewed.

"Good. Go, run around and do whatever you _kits_ want."

Mosskit paused. Blossom had stressed the word _kits_, as if they weren't apprentices and would never be. But then her brother batted her with a paw and she retaliated by pouncing, and soon they were tussling in the training hollow and all the she-kit's worries evaporated like dew in the morning sun.

* * *

Blossom paced back and forth, her tail flicking from side to side. She barely payed the play-fighting kits any heed, lost in her own worries.

_You pace too much._

"Why does it matter to you?"

_I can't absorb __the blood if you keep moving. You might as well throw up and color the hole crimson._

The goddess sat down and curled her slender tail over her paws. Vomiting kit blood wasn't her favorite thing to do. She closed her eyes and inhaled, clearing her mind of such thoughts and focused on the current dilemma.

_At this point, my sister was conflicted. She knew she had to name the kits apprentices, but she didn't know the words and was afraid StarClan was angry at her and wouldn't allow the siblings to become proper 'paws. At that moment, right above her, the starry cat __bickered over whether she was considered a good cat or not._

Blossom opened her eyes. She didn't know what to do. Should she give Mosskit and Shadekit the illusion that they were apprentices, without knowing whether or not her ancestors approved of it —plus not remembering how to do the ceremony,— or tell them that they couldn't be apprentices? The trek from her cavern to the Moonpool was a long one, and she doubted the kits would be fine on their own while she was gone. They were still inexperienced, despite all she had already taught them.

_What you should be thinking about right now is how you'll kill them, not how you'll make them apprentices! _Blossom's heart whined.

"Shut up."

_That's the thirty-sixth time you told me that._

"And I'll say it again if you don't keep quiet."

_You're just a weakling._

"That won't work again."

There was no reply. Blossom sighed and delved deeper into her thoughts. Maybe she could get the kits to come with her to the Moonpool. But if they got tired and she had to carry them, the goddess would surely lose her ability to tolerate the two.

What would she choose? What was there to choose?

_Blossom had lost her way. She didn't know what step to take take, which direction to go in. She was as vulnerable as a mouse._

Should she just get on with the ritual?

The goddess weighed her options. One: She could go to the Moonpool and ask StarClan. But what of something happened on the way there, either to her or the kits?

Two: She could never make them apprentices. She could just kill them and be done with it. Blossom held back a growl; she knew the last sentence had come from the voice's influence.

Three: She could do the ceremony and hope. She could hang into that little bit of hope, could pray to StarClan. These kits had done no wrong; surely the starry warriors would accept them if not her.

Blossom closed her eyes again. She sat there, frozen, for what felt like eons.

_In her mind, she was just repeating three words over and over again:_

_What to choose . . ._

_What to choose . . ._

_By then, StarClan had reached a decision. The future of those kits was too dim to see, but they agreed that anything could happen. Mosskit and Shadekit needed to be prepared, and perhaps if this plan of Blossom worked, the Clans would convert to the old world. That was what every single StarClan member wanted. The old world. But to get the kits ready__, they had to be apprentices._

_So they sent the goddess a message. They told her that her fate had yet to be chosen, but they would accept the kits._

_And then Blossom's lids fluttered open, for with the help of her ancestors she knew what to do. She knew that even if she didn't know the words, the ceremony would be proper no matter what._

The goddess opened her jaws and called out.

* * *

"Kits, come here."

Shadekit stopped mid-leap and tumbled to the ground. The sudden words sent a tendril of hope into Shadekit's belly. Was this it? Would they be apprentices at last? Mosskit obviously had the same thought, because her eyes lit up and she pranced towards Blossom. The goddess was elegantly perched on a mound of dirt.

The smoky kit followed his rowdy sister, but he walked slowly and prepared himself for the worst —that they would never be apprentices, or that Blossom had a change of heart and was going to kill them. Her eye was green, though. That was a good sign, wasn't it?

Once they had reached the mound, the she-cat closed her eyes.

"I, Blossom, former ShadowClan apprentice, call upon S-StarClan to look down on these k-kits." Shadekit pricked his ears. Was the almighty goddess _stuttering_?

"They have reached the age of six moons and are ready to begin training as apprentices." Blossom's voice grew steady, and the black cat now looked more of a leader than the ShadowClan apprentice she claimed to have been.

"I will mentor you both. As of today, the beginning of leaf-fall, I—"

There was a horrible strangled sound that twisted Shadekit's gut. Blossom's eye flickered dangerously, so fast that the green and red might have been a single color.

And this time, it landed on red.

"I condemn you to death!" the goddess yowled. There was a wild look in her now-crimson eyes, the look of a cat who could only be called mad. Shadekit shoved Mosskit backwards towards the edge of the hollow. He stared into the goddess's orbs and saw no bit of the cat who had nurtured them two moons ago. He saw only a shadow, a film of black and red covering the natural green.

What had she told them to do when this happened? The smoky kit's mind was whirling, sending him into a state of utter panic and mayhem. His heart pounded in his throat, making him gasp desperately for breath, and blood roared in his ears. Blossom had repeated it, repeated hoe to react, many many times. She had told them to say something when the voice took over, to tell her to remember something —some_one,_— so why couldn't he remember?

"Stop!"

The shout took Shadekit by surprise. Was that his sister, his bubbly, shy, rebellious sister, who had made that sound? She sound as if she was a cat that was the exact opposite of who she was.

_What made Mosskit cry out like that wasn't instinct. It wasn't out of fear of panic. But Shadekit wasn't the only one who had looked into Blossom's eyes; she had, too. And when green connected with red, she felt a link connecting her to Blossom. For one split second, she traveled through the goddess's memories. She lived Blossom's whole life in one heartbeat. In that little moment, she felt everything; anger, love, grief, despair, happiness, hope, loss, and the wild hunger for revenge._

_But the important part was, she saw Blueflame. She knew how much this cat meant to Blossom, and she knew that Blossom felt guilty of succumbing to the voice mainly because Blueflame __would be deeply disappointed in the goddess if she had lived to see what happened that fateful night._

"Stop," Mosskit repeated. Shadekit stared in awe and horror at his sister. Was she completely crazy, as mad as a fox in a fit, or the bravest cat he had ever gotten the honor of meeting and being the brother of?

"Remember Blueflame."

Those words sounded familiar. Were they the ones that Blossom had told the two day after day? They had to be!

Shadekit stepped forward, feeling bolder. "Yes. Remember Blueflame."

Mosskit shot him a look filled with gratitude. Nothing was spoken, but they knew that they were thinking the same thing.

It was their responsibility to get rid of the voice.

The insane Blossom, who had been advancing, stopped in her tracks. The eye changed color wildly. The she-cat blinked rapidly and then stared at the two kits as her orb began to slow and finally land on green.

"It happened again."

It was a statement, not a question. They all knew too well what happened —Shadekit's heart was still thumping hard and fast from the aftershock. He pressed close to Mosskit.

"Thank you," the goddess continued. "We'll finish the ceremony. I name you Shadepaw." She padded over and touched her nose to the newly named Shadepaw's head, and he shuddered at the cold touch.

"And I name you Mosspaw." She did the same for his sister. Shadepaw puffed out his chest. He was an apprentice!

Following the naming, there was silence.

At least, there was silence until Blossom looked from 'paw to 'paw and meowed, "Well, are we going to stand here and catch flies or cheer for you two?" She raised her muzzle to the sky. "Shadepaw! Mosspaw! Shadepaw!"

Mosspaw was the first to join in. With a glimmer of happiness in her green eyes, she called out his name:

"Shadepaw! Shadepaw!"

Shadepaw's mouth curved up into a small smile. He looked up at the sun and the cloudless blue firmament and yowled his sister's new name.

"Mosspaw! Mosspaw!"

"Shadepaw! Shadepaw!"

"Mosspaw's! Shadepaw! Mosspaw!"

And all three cats savored the joyful moment, because no one knew if they would ever have another one.

* * *

**A/N: Oh StarClan, that was hard to write. And rushed. But whatever; we have another chapter done!**


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N: 39 reviews! We'll definitely make it to the goal by next chapter!**

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

_You would expect for it to be hard to sleep on the first night as an apprentice, but it wasn't. Mosspaw and Shadepaw__, worn out from the day's events, fell asleep almost as soon as their heads hit the moss. Each dreamed of different things; their new name, their new life, the old world. But Mosspaw in particular found a starry meadow, one that my very close friend happened to go to . . ._

* * *

Mosspaw looked around curiously at her surroundings. She had been chasing a beautiful yellow butterfly, and now she was here in this seemingly endless field of grass. Her head was light, her paws feeling as soft as the feathers of a baby bird.

The meadow was littered with flowers of every color —purple, blue, white, pink— and every blade of grass glinted in the warm sun. It was a truly amazing sight.

The apprentice heard a rustle and pricked her ears, looking around for the source of the noise. She turned in circles and spotted a translucent blue-gray she-cat with stars in her fur. This had to be a StarClan cat. Mosspaw stared into the green eyes, green eyes that looked unnervingly like hers, and saw a lifetime of grief in them.

"Who are you?" she breathed, but she already knew the answer. Who else could it be, but the cat Blossom and so often talked about, the cat that she had pined for, the cat Mosspaw had seen once she had entered the goddess's memories?

"My name is Blueflame." The words were no more than a soft breeze.

"Blueflame," the pale gray she-cat acknowledged. "You're Blossom's . . . " she trailed off, not knowing what to say. Was Blueflame an older sister? Friend? Kin?

"I am not here to tell you who I am." The beautiful she-cat suddenly looked hard at Mosspaw with an intensity in her gaze that caught the apprenrice by surprise.

"Please . . . Don't let . . ."

_It was getting harder and harder for Blueflame to speak. What she wanted to tell Mosspaw was not approved by the rest of StarClan, and when we detected it, we had to stop her from saying any more. We were simply transporting her back to the StarClan forest; no harm was done._

"Don't let what?" the apprentice asked. But it was too late. The figure was fading quickly, ultimately disappearing in front of Mosspaw's eyes.

"Don't let _what_?" she called out, more desperately. There was no reply but the soft rustling of grass in the meadow.

"Please!" Mosspaw yowled. She didn't know what was going on anymore. She didn't know why she was screaming, or what Blueflame wanted to say. She didn't know where she was anymore.

"_Don't let . . ._" There was a whisper, a tiny one. "_Don't let . . . m-my . . ._"

"Tell me!" the pale she-cat shrieked. "What do you want from me?" She looked around wildly. Despair was coming in on her. There was no place to run, no place to hide. The meadow grew darker until Mosspaw was drenched in blackness. She flailed her paws, trying to get away as the light weakened. Her mind was fuzzy with confusion.

"Mosspaw! Mosspaw!"

Was someone calling her? The voice sounded so close, yet it was impossible to reach . . .

"_Mosspaw_!"

And then, with a start, the apprentice's eyes fluttered open.

Mosspaw raised her head wearily, her bones aching like an elder's and her mind feeling as if it hadn't rested at all. She quickly got a sense of her surroundings; Blossom's cavern, as usual. Two faces, one dark gray and one black, stared down at her.

"Are you okay?" Shadepaw asked, worry in his voice.

"Okay?" Mosspaw repeated dully. Her mind took a moment longer to process the words. "Yeah. I'm fine . . ."

"In other words, it was a bad dream and you're over it now," Blossom meowed brusquely. She flicked her tail. "Listen."

The pale apprentice cocked her head to one side, pricking her ears. She made out a faint pattering sound, one she had heard three moons ago . . .

"Rain!" Mosspaw exclaimed suddenly. There was no doubt about it. By some miracle, her rain was back. Her heart thumped faster in her chest, drawing her to the falling water in the same way light attracted moths.

"This is the perfect time for a lesson." Head held high and regal, the goddess bounded out of the cave in two strides. Shadepaw nudged the entranced Mosspaw and together the siblings followed Blossom into the rain.

Their mentor's ear twitched, but she didn't turn around. Instead the black cat tilted her face to the sky and opened her jaws to begin her lecture.

"The rain is truly nature's work of art. With it, it brings life and growth. It takes away the threat of drought, for rain is falling water. Water is also an important element of RiverClan's life; they use it to fight and to catch their prey, fish."

Mosspaw stifled a yawn. Sure, she liked rain, but this stuff was obvious.

Blossom's voice suddenly became somber, and both apprentices jerked to attention.

"However, the rain is also dangerous. Twolegs cause something we call poison-rain. It's still water falling from the sky, but it is deadly if it falls on you. Prey die. Herbs wither.

"Even without having the poison, rain can kill a cat. All the Clans, especially Riveraclan who live close to the river, are in danger of their camp getting flooded if the storm is bad. Floods can cause massive destruction, not only to lives but to territory and dens."

The pale she-cat felt a seed of horror plant itself inside her stomach at the goddess's words. The seed quickly grew into tendrils of ivy, choking her from the inside, filling her with fear and shock.

Shadepaw seemed to notice this, because he gently nuzzled his sister's shoulder and turned to Blossom.

"Surely it can't be that bad, right? I mean, the poison-rain or floods probably only happen once in a few seasons or something," he mewed tentatively.

The goddess curled her lip, her expression dark and her eye flickering. "It doesn't matter how often it occurs. What matters is that cats _always_ get hurt when there's a disaster. They _always_ get hurt somehow, physically or emotionally. Whether it's your own self or not who's suffering means nothing." She was advancing on the apprentice, every hair on her pelt bristling.

"I think—" Mosspaw started, but was cut off by a snarl from the goddess.

"This isn't your place to speak, apprentice."

The smoky tom suddenly dipped his head calmly to his mentor. "I understand. Thank you for clarifying."

Blossom relaxed notably at Shadepaw's words, her posture becoming less threatening. Mosspaw let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding.

_The goddess had been affected greatly by Shadepaw's comment. Those words, "probably only happen once in a few seasons" irked her beyond belief; her life probably only happened once in an eon, she didn't want every cat to pass it by as just another little problem that would be fixed._

"Well, come on," the she-cat meowed, gesturing with her head to further away from the cave. "You've been cooped up in my cave and the hollow for too long. Go out there and stretch your legs a little."

Mosspaw felt a strange flash of alarm. "Are you coming with us? What about the rain?"

"Of course. As for the rain . . ." Blossom closed her eyes. As if by some kind of magic, the the rain lessened. The she-cat noted that despite how easy it seemed, the black cat seemed to be having an internal struggle as the rain became tiny droplets, the clouds cleared, and eventually the water stopped falling altogether.

Shadepaw put in his question. "Can we go to the meadow?"

Surprise flashed in the goddess's eyes for a moment. "It's far from here . . ." She shook herself, as if getting rid of an annoying fly. "Okay." Blossom padded closer to the edge of Mount Crimson and looked down. Mosspaw did the same and inhaled sharply.

It was a long way down, and in a part of the wall was a ledge full of jagged rocks. If a cat fell down there . . .

The apprentice felt dizzy, a wave of nausea sweeping over her. They had to go down _there_ to get to the meadow?

She tried to take deep breaths. Her mind was spinning, from the huge drop or the stressful dream or the brutal training during the past three moons she didn't know.

Suddenly, Mosspaw felt herself teetering on the end of the cliff, dangerously only a short distance away from tumbling down. She shut her eyes and prepared for death—

Teeth met the ashen she-cat's scruff and pulled her to safety. Mosspaw had only begun to gather her bearings when Blossom began shouting at her.

"You idiot! Be careful, darn it! I wouldn't be able to . . . I would snap if . . ."

Seeing that the goddess was, for once, at a loss of words, the two littermates shared a brief glance before both walking towards their mentor.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to slip." Mosspaw ducked her head.

"We're okay now. No more accidents," Shadepaw promised.

The goddess had a faraway look in her eyes as she stared past the mountain to the world. "Come on, then," she muttered gruffly. "No more mistakes . . And go down tail-first."

The three turned themselves around. Blossom jumped off backwards, digging her claws into the stone as soon as she began falling. Shadepaw boldly followed, Mosspaw last to come down. She closed her eyes and hung on tight.

"Now," the black cat meowed. "Stretch your hind paws down as much as possible and latch on with your claws. Let go of the mountain with your front paws and move yourself down a bit before putting them back on."

Mosspaw hesitated. She didn't want to let go; her instincts were screaming for her to stay where she was so she didn't fall.

But she had to believe in the goddess.

So she extended her dangling legs down Mount Crimson, found a small crevice to dig her claws into, and released her front paws.

For a heart-stopping moment, Mosspaw felt as if she were falling. But then a second after she attached herself back on to the stone.

Little by little, using the method, the two apprentice and Blossom reached the bottom safely. Mosspaw let her breathing slow. Everything was fine. Climbing up again would be easier than going down.

"Cone on!" Shadepaw yowled, elation in his voice. "Let's go!" He pranced over to his sister, butting her playfully and dashing away. Her fear gone, Mosspaw smiled and raced after her brother.

_Young cats easily forget trauma once the moment of fear has passed, and these two were no different. __The two zigzagged across the barren earth in an intense game of tag. The goddess followed behind more slowly, keeping an eye out for any disruptions. S__oon, however, the apprentices tired of their game and fell in with Blossom. _

Her legs aching from the run, Mosspaw trudged on with her . . .

_With my what? _she suddenly wondered. They were a somewhat ragtag group, that was for sure; the powerful, graceful goddess, the bold Shadepaw, and her.

But despite the hardships —Blossom's ever-bloodthirsty voice, the littermates' rebelism and former hatred of the black cat—, strong bonds had grown between them.

As they made their way to the meadow, Mosspaw looked from one cat to the other. Her heart gave a happy, contented sigh, and then she realized who they were.

They were _family_.

As if on cue, when Mosspaw found the word to describe them, Blossom halted. The apprentices followed suit.

"We're here, you two," the she-cat announced. "Welcome back to the meadow."

* * *

**A/N: I know, I know, that was a _terrible_ chapter. After Blood is finished —which hopefully is soon— I will be doing a rewrite.**


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